


All's Fair in Orgasms and War

by bleep0bleep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Butt Plugs, Demiromanticism, Demisexuality, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Minor Cora Hale/Lydia Martin, Minor Jackson Whittemore/Danny Mahealani, Minor Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Multi, Mutual Pining, Public Sex, Sex Toys, Top Derek Hale, Top Stiles Stilinski, Versatile Derek Hale, Versatile Stiles Stilinski, Video Cameras, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 63,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/pseuds/bleep0bleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE</i><br/><i>"We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!"</i><br/>~<br/>The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Promises, No Demands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolwiegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolwiegirl/gifts).



> _This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being shared with or read aloud by the press, or anyone working on said production of_ Teen Wolf, _including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom._  
>  ~
> 
> This fic was written for the awesome wolwiegirl, who bid on me in the fanworks auction for the [Tyler Hoechlin Birthday Project.](http://hoechlinbdayproject.tumblr.com/post/99070117240/hello-everyone-we-know-we-have-promised-you-all) I'm happy to have contributed in whatever small way, and the project itself raised $3500 for the Jed Foundation in Hoechlin's name, which is pretty awesome. 
> 
> This is the first of three works that I'm writing for auction winners. 
> 
> While this is a Derek/Stiles endgame, with the nature of a pornstar AU, there will be mentions of characters having sexual relations with other characters outside the pairing, without romantic attachment, either for the work or for fun.
> 
> Endless thanks to [Jay](http://sourwolfandsarcasm.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading, and a silent, I-will-never-say-this-to-your-face thank you to Hoechlin for telling us at Wolf Moon Con that his pornstar name would be Diamond Vista Ridge.
> 
> There will be NSFW gifs embedded in the fic from time to time. ;) There will also be skip links available which will just skip to where the fic picks up again.
> 
> Also trigger warning: there are mentions of the studio Visual Climax filming scenes that are intended to be perceived as nonconsensual. This is a brief mention at the beginning to establish their type of films and there is no further discussion or any explicit discussion or description of those events. If you wish to skip this mention and start reading after that bit, click here.

Scott gives the letter that Stiles had just handed him a critical look. “I don’t know, Stiles, it kind of goes against our mission statement,” he says.

The words _ORGASM WARS_ are splashed across the letterhead in lurid looking font, the brief invitation to participate in this annual competition detailed below.

“Dude, it’s the perfect opportunity to get our mission statement _out_ there,” Stiles says enthusiastically. “Listen to me, _True Alpha Studios_ is still very much a small indie darling, and if we’re gonna get your awesome message out there-- you know, great cinematography, actual plots, supporting positive werewolf-human relations, dispelling stereotypes, all that jazz-- we can’t turn down this offer.”

Scott makes a face. “Just look at who runs this competition, okay? _Visual Climax_! You know they makes those terrible videos with the nonconsensual knotting and all their werewolf-human videos are about dominance which plays directly into the discrimination we face in society, like perceived aggression and the whole possessive Alpha thing, not to mention how I don’t like how they fetishize--”

“Yeah, but _Orgasm Wars_ is on the map _,_ Scotty. You know who _sponsors_ this competition? The AVN Awards, Scott. Plus, like _Hale House_  has always been a huge participant, and you know they don't film any of that noncon shit, and they pushed for stricter limits on this event ever since they started participating."

"Still with the stereotypes, though," Scott grumbles, but he relaxes a little. _Hale House_ is one of those few studios that's on his okay list.

"You know the winners automatically get nominated for awards every year, and if we win-- you know our little studio is gonna make it _big_. Sales, customers, and then we’ll even have the funds to make that awesome pirate movie you’ve been dreaming about," Stiles says.

Scott’s eyes light up. “That _would_ be awesome,” he says, agreeing reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll write back to them and tell them we’re in. It looks like they’re going to put up videos of the reigning champions online in a week, and then any of the invited studios can submit a video challenge for any of the categories.”

Stiles whoops with excitement. “This is gonna be great! Trust me, you’re not gonna regret this, Scott.”

Scott huffs at him. “Maybe I’ll sign you up for the Size Queen competition, huh, and you’ll just fall in love and be all sad when the competition is over and you can’t bring that big dick home with you.”

Stiles laughs. “Please. Really, Scott, if I liked a dude’s dick that much I can always have a dildo made, you know. I’m not gonna fall in love with anyone.”

“You never know!” Scott insists. Always the romantic optimist.

“Fine, you know what? How bout this: if I fall in love with anyone over the course of this competition, I will-- I’ll cuddle someone on camera for you, Scotty.”

Scott lights up. “Really? You hate cuddling.”

“I know. But I’m not gonna have to do it, ‘cause it’s not going to happen.” Stiles takes the letter back, eyeing the list of studios participating, and thinking there’s little to no chance of meeting anyone from there who he’d ever be likely to fall in love with.

 

* * *

 

Derek flexes a little, staring down the camera rigidly. He’s always found the interview portion of this ridiculous; he hopes it’ll be over soon. He doesn’t look at the interviewer but instead straight at the camera, widening his stance a little, knowing that the bulge in his pants is very, very obvious.

“So, Diamond, you’ve been the champion of the Tease Challenge for three years now, what is your secret?”

“Absolute control,” Derek says, not even bothering to correct the interviewer anymore about his name. He’s been in the industry for five years, and nobody’s called him “Diamond Vista Ridge” since his first video when his co-star had shortened it to just “Diamond,” and somehow it stuck. It annoyed Derek more than it should.

“You can’t make me come if I don’t want to, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it,” Derek says defiantly to the camera, curving his lips up in the slightest smirk.

“Why don’t you give the challengers and our viewers out there a little taste of what to expect?”

Derek strips out of his shirt easily, lets the camera pan over his broad, tanned chest and down to his waist. He slips a thumb under the waistband of his pants, dragging it along and then unbuttons and unzips slowly. It’s a well-practiced act, and Derek doesn’t even have to think about the automatic seductive roll of his hips, then lowers his gaze just a little, teasing the waistband of his boxers as he slips them down to his thighs. He’s almost bored, barely even registering the faint scent of arousal wafting off the cameraman and a few of the other crew members standing around.

Actually, correction, Derek _is_ bored.

It’s practically a chore to get hard now, this is so routine.

It’s not a bad job, really; Derek likes sex, he’s good at it, he’s just… tired. The scripts are always the same: if he’s with another werewolf, there’s the “battle for dominance” that in Derek’s experience has never happened in real life, and if he’s with a human, the director always has them simper adoringly over his muscles and larger physique. It's really getting boring.

Still, whatever. _Orgasm Wars_ is a big draw for all audiences, and Derek has to represent Hale House. He always gets signed up for the Tease category because he’s gotten typecasted in the stoic werewolf role. Derek’s constantly rolling his eyes at the way he’s described in so many videos, like “HOT HAIRY ALPHA WEREWOLF PLOWS THREE TWINKS” or “ALPHA TEACHES HIS KNOTTY BETAS A LESSON.”  Ridiculous. Humans don’t understand pack hierarchy or knotting at all. Derek isn’t even an Alpha, and even if he was there aren’t really any sexual differences between Alphas and Betas.  

It’s just there are these perceived things that get the humans all hot and bothered. And don’t even get him started on how many fake knotting scenes he’s filmed.

He can’t believe there are still so many humans willing to believe that this ridiculous-- fetish-- of theirs can just happen at the drop of a hat. It’s a serious, emotional bonding moment significant to werewolf culture, and ever since The Reveal ten years ago humans have appropriated it completely for their sexual fantasies. For one thing, a werewolf can only knot if they _mean_ it, and it’s never actually happened to Derek before.

There’s some science behind knotting that Derek still doesn’t really understand, something about pheromones and compatibility and comfort; he vaguely recalls an extremely embarrassing conversation he had with his mother when he reached puberty, about finding that “special someone he could share his knot with for the rest of his life.”

She’s dead now, at least she doesn’t have to know Derek makes a living pretending to knot humans and werewolves alike, saying terrible lines while his co-star moans in fake pleasure as the supposed knot swells.

At least he doesn’t have to do that right now; Derek just has to do a simple solo video for the organizers to promote this years’ _Orgasm Wars._

Derek takes his cock in his hand, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when he hears a gasp of awe from the corner of the room. He strokes himself, trying to think of something that’ll get him hard quickly. He knows he could’ve had a fluffer, but he’s worked with _Orgasm Wars_ for a few years, and they know Derek’s dislike of them and didn’t waste time or money hiring someone for it. Plus Derek has a reputation to uphold about being “rock hard” or whatever they keep telling themselves these days, but in reality… well, he just really finds it easier to get himself in the zone when he can fantasize about what he wants.

He thinks about one of the videos he saw yesterday from this indie studio; now that had been _different._ It hadn’t felt like porn; it was sensual, soft. Slow.

One of their human actors had a solo video of him just sitting in a chair, naked and touching himself. He’d looked real, splayed out like that, moles dark against his flushed skin, gasping as he fingered himself, beautiful and raw and unpracticed. The light on the actor’s creamy skin was somehow perfect; made him look luminous and ethereal.

Derek’s definitely hard now, and he imagines kissing the man softly, making tender love to him.

Of course, he’s never done that on camera.

Derek can’t even say he’s done it in real life.

He gives the camera a steely look, taking his hand off his cock, standing naked and erect. Derek’s cock twitches slightly and he knows the camera is zooming in right about now, panning up from his muscled legs to his torso and then the last shot is of his face.

The harsh lights on his face remind him that he’s not just idly touching himself for his own pleasure, fantasizing about tender lovemaking with an anonymous man, but he’s standing in front of a crew that expects a certain persona from him.

Derek huffs confidently, sneering at the camera. “I’ll be hard all day, just you wait and see.”

The interviewer laughs. “There you have it, everyone, the Diamond! Do you have what it takes to break through his rock hard defenses? Submit your video today to sign up for the Tease Challenge!”

“And that’s a cut!” the director says, nodding, satisfied with himself.

Derek relaxes a little, takes the bottle of water a P.A. hands him and gulps it down. One of the crewmen is eyeing him as he breaks down the lights. “If you want, I could help you take care of that,” he offers, looking hopefully at Derek’s erection, greedily.

“No thanks,” Derek says curtly, ignoring the offered bathrobe another P.A. is holding out and walks back to his trailer naked.

He hears someone say, as if torn between arousal and exasperation, “Werewolves.”

“I know, they’re so _hot,”_ someone else replies. 

Derek shuts the door, grimacing at Uncle Peter’s weird protocols. Yeah, their studio makes a ton of money, but he swears Peter is just making the human-werewolf divide worse by feeding the rumors that werewolves are all these dominant, sex-craved nudists.

In the comfortable solitude of his trailer, Derek pulls on his comfiest pair of sweatpants, and grabs a tin of his favorite gourmet chocolate covered popcorn. They won’t need him again for hours, not until the reigning champions have completed filming their videos for the website and then they can take the group photos. He settles into the couch and turns on his TV to the Hallmark channel and immediately recognizes the scene playing.

Derek smiles to himself as he cuddles up to one of his pillows, watching the ending scene from _Love’s Enduring Promise_. He knows that these movies are incredibly cheesy and formulaic but he loves watching all of the ridiculous romances.

Derek munches on his popcorn, smiling at the screen as the hero and heroine are swept up into a rousing kiss. He clicks the button for the guide to see what else is on for today, and is pleasantly surprised to see _Howl For You_ on next.

Perfect.

It’s one of the few werewolf-human romances depicted in media since The Reveal that isn’t half-bad. They even employed a werewolf to play the main lead, which was pretty groundbreaking despite the terrible CGI they used to enhance his transformation, making it way too dramatic. Nevertheless, it’s a cute story, and even if it only aired on the Hallmark channel, Derek’s quite protective of it because it’s one of the few movies that has actually shown male werewolves as something other than hyper-masculine power fantasies.

The current movie ends and Derek sets his popcorn tin down, savoring the mix of salty and sweet in his mouth before he starts himself some hot chocolate, humming as he heats up milk and stirs in cocoa powder. He tops it off with a few fluffy marshmallows, watching them melt into the steaming chocolate in his mug. Derek inhales the sweet scent and takes a sip, sighing happily and licking the foam off his lips.

There’s a knock on his trailer door.

“Hey, stud, I was wonderin’ if you wanted to join us for lunch…”

Derek recognizes the reedy voice of the cameraman that propositioned him earlier.

“Fuck off, I’m working out!” Derek growls roughly.

“Oh, okay, you keep at it,” the guy says, backing off.

Derek sighs, taking another sip of hot chocolate and ambles back to his couch. He tucks himself in with his favorite fluffy blanket and watches as the opening credits of _Howl For You_ start. The lighting is soft and romantic, and a cello plays faintly in the distance. He already knows every line by heart, so it’s nice just to have the movie on as a pleasant background noise while Derek’s mind wanders.

He wishes there was more porn that used stuff like this. Actually, that studio-- Derek can’t remember the name of it now, but he’s sure he can find it.  Apparently Boyd had stumbled across the studio and had sent Derek a link to their website, telling him excitedly that their knotting had to be either real, or their special effects team was incredible. And judging by the low budget of the studio, they couldn’t have afforded expensive CGI-- so Boyd had wanted Derek’s opinion on the matter.

Derek had watched bits and pieces of the featured video, an attractive Alpha with a human lover. He’d skipped through most of it, watching some of their scenes; it was obvious they had a lot of chemistry, passion showing through the foreplay-- playful touches, kisses on the shoulder-- and the knotting was definitely real, the Alpha’s dick visibly swelling at the base as he eases in and out of her until they were tied together, the werewolf tugging the girl into his lap, kissing her softly, saying “I’ve got you, Allison.” Derek had exited out of the video, feeling uncomfortably voyeuristic, like he was watching an intimate moment between lovers.

Derek had never seen actual live knotting before; that video must be putting this studio on the map. For werewolves, at least. Derek remembers the video hitting all sorts of weird emotional triggers for Derek, like he wanted to knot someone so badly and then cuddle up and fall asleep with them.  

Derek takes another sip of his hot chocolate, licking at the marshmallows floating around in his cup. He watches the the human girl meet the werewolf hero for the first time, laughing a little with secondhand embarrassment as she spills hot coffee on him. Derek idly wonders if that indie studio had a bigger budget would they be able to do something on a larger scale like this? Derek for sure knows he would love it if somehow they could combine his favorite cheesy romance movies with some nice softcore porn.

But there was that one human guy on the site… yeah. Now that Derek has some time to himself, it wouldn’t hurt at all for him to get off the way he wants to. It won’t matter since he doesn’t have to come on screen anytime later today; it’s just one more photoshoot. Derek gets up to grab his laptop, scrolling through his emails until he finds the link to the site. It’s not hard to locate the video he was watching yesterday, it’s featured as the #4 best video.

Derek browses through the profile page, looking at all the photos and videos for the guy-- Stiles, his stage name is. All the models at this studio seem to keep it simple with their theme-- nice, normal names like Scott and Allison and Danny, except this guy.

Derek doesn’t bother to turn off the TV, which is now panning over picturesque landscapes and playing a soft melody filled with longing as he presses play on “Stiles Solo #7.”

The camera is focused on a single chair in the foreground, and then Stiles walks into frame. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts, and nothing else from what Derek can tell from the slight bulge outlined when Stiles sits down and spreads his legs.

Stiles smirks at the camera, sticking his tongue out, and tracing his lips in a way that has Derek’s heart pounding with desire. He runs his long fingers down his bare torso, flicking his nipples, and then plays with the waistband of his shorts. He doesn’t say anything, just strokes himself, long and lazy, and the only sound is of his quickening breaths. He’s hard, looking right at the camera-- right at Derek, with a piercing stare. The corner of his lips curve in an amused smile, like this is a private joke between lovers, and Stiles is putting himself on display for someone special, someone he wants to arouse.

Derek slips easily into the fantasy that this show is for him, and Stiles is his boyfriend or something, and they’re in a long distance relationship and now Stiles is treating him to some video sex. The music from the movie and the soft lighting in the video make the session feel intimate, like it was intended for Derek’s eyes only.

Stiles yanks down the shorts to reveal a hard cock, pretty and flushed with arousal, dripping just slightly. He strokes himself, face going slack as he pleasures himself.

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

~

_[Image description: Stiles, sitting naked on a couch, touching himself.]_

 

Derek can’t help but take his own cock out and mirror the movements, Stiles looks so good like this, pink mouth falling open as he touches himself.

Finally the shorts get annoying and Stiles discards them on the floor. He pours some lube on his fingers, waggling them at the camera mischievously, then turns around and kneels on the chair, presenting himself, and Derek groans at the sight of that ass. Stiles spreads his cheeks, revealing a tight pink furl, and then arches his back, flexing, ass bouncing slightly. He reaches a hand behind himself to tease at his hole, and Derek’s mouth goes dry watching him drag his finger around the edge, easing the tip of a finger in and then withdrawing it to play with the rim, stretching slowly. Finally Stiles gets a finger inside himself, gasping with the effort.

Derek is almost ready to come from just watching this guy finger himself-- Stiles takes forever, circling the rim, massaging slowly, bringing himself to what looks like the edge of aching exhaustion, stretching himself out. Finally he brings his ass up for a closer shot of his hole, dripping and open.

God, he looks so ready be fucked, Derek just--

And then Stiles turns back to face the camera, winking as if he knows exactly what Derek’s thinking, what he wants, and he’s not going to give it to him just yet. He sits back on the chair and spreads his legs again, stroking himself off at a quicker pace. His thighs tremble, and then Stiles throws his head back. Derek can see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he grabs his cock, jerking it roughly. His whole body shakes, and then he starts talking, voice smooth like velvet, words spilling out of him, one after another.

“You want me to come for you, babe?” Stiles breathes out in a breathy whisper. It’s the first he’s spoken the entire video but Derek feels like he wants to drink up the sound of his voice, bright and teasing. He just looks so _alive_ , eyes dancing in amusement, and the word _babe_ slipping out of his mouth easily, that it feels real.

Maybe it’s the sweeping romantic score in the background, but Derek is absolutely caught up in the fantasy he’s created for himself. “C’mon, Stiles, come for me,” he whispers to the screen.

As if hearing him, Stiles closes his eyes and his mouth falls open, body tensing up as he spurts white ropes of come all over himself. He collapses back in the chair, panting and red-faced, with a satisfied smile on his face. Stiles says drowsily, “Thanks, babe. Have a good night.” He winks, then licks his come-covered hand lazily, as Derek watches, pumping his own cock. With his free hand, Derek resets the video back a little and watches Stiles come again, over and over, hard and desperate, until he’s spilling his own load to Stiles saying fondly for the tenth time, “Thanks, babe.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, do you think I should change up how I talk to the camera?” Stiles asks as he puts the finishing touches on the edit of his newest solo video. He’s just noticing he says _babe_ a lot. Stiles has been pretending that the camera is someone he’s in a relationship with, and the endearment had felt like a good idea, but he knows Danny says all kinds of ridiculous things. Maybe he should diversify a little. Stud, big guy, hot stuff, that’s all stuff guys like to hear, right?

“No, I think it’s good the way it is,” Scott says. “Did you finish editing Jackson and Danny’s video?”

“Yup,” Stiles says. “I went ahead and uploaded it to the website; we’ve got over a hundred downloads already.”

“Awesome,” Scott says, beaming.

Stiles sets his latest video to convert to a smaller file for uploading, and watches the status bar slowly progress.  

“Hey, you think the reigning champions’ videos are up on the website yet?” Stiles asks curiously. He opens a new tab and pulls up the _Orgasm Wars_ website; sure enough, there’s a brand new set of videos and instructions for challenger submissions. Scott peers over his shoulder as Stiles flicks through the videos showcasing the champions for all the current categories. They watch a few of them, laughing at the categories, when Allison walks in, still in her robe. She presses a sleepy kiss to Scott’s cheek, and Scott dimples adorably.

Stiles sticks his tongue out at them, a fond but automatic fake-annoyed expression crossing his face. He’s used to their PDA, but it’s a long-running joke between them since college for Stiles to make fun of them. It’s not like he hasn’t seen them do worse than this; in fact he’s directed a few of their videos together-- there really aren’t any secrets between them.

Sometimes Stiles wonders how his little group of friends got into filming and distributing porn together, but he’s sure he can pin it all down to Scott and Allison complaining late one night about the terrible options in porn for werewolf-human couples, and then it just took Jackson chiming in about the horrible werewolf-werewolf porn, and then the discussion had just took off. They’d been just out of college at the time, and it had been just a fun idea of Scott’s to “make the porn they wish to see in the world”-- and now it’s become so much more than that, from a little fantasy fulfilment to trying to change how the world saw werewolves.

Scott and Stiles browse through the videos together, trying to think about what might be a good fit for any of them.

“Alright, what’s this, the Tease category?” Stiles muses, clicking on the video and then pausing to let it load.. He recognizes the guy pictured in the still-- Diamond from _Hale House_. Definitely someone Stiles has jerked off to before, definitely someone Stiles wouldn’t mind having the chance to get some hands-on experience with.

“Sounds like something you’d be good at,” Allison jokes. “Maybe you could represent us, it doesn’t look like there were many other categories that any of us would be interested in.”

“What about that one guy looking for the ‘hottest threesome’ challenge?” Scott muses. “He was cute.”

“Hmmm, two werewolves, one human,” Allison says, eyes glittering. “Maybe.” She takes Scott by the arm, saying softly, “Lets go check out more of his videos,” and starts dragging him out of the room, a familiar smile on her face.

“Save it for the cameras!” Stiles teases, tossing the nearest thing-- a pen-- at them. Scott laughs and winks at him, dodging the projectile. “Find a category you like!” he calls out before he leaves.

“Sure,” Stiles says, “I’ll know it when I see it.”

The video is done loading, and Stiles is alone, too, so he doesn’t have any qualms about jerking himself off should he feel the need. Not that anyone has been particularly inspiring so far, but Stiles has a history with Diamond. Late night sessions in his dorm room, watching Diamond fucking some guy up against a wall-- classic Stilinski masturbation time. Looking at Diamond’s scowly face on the video still makes Stiles feel nostalgic for that time he came five times in one night during a Diamond marathon.

Stiles has seen every single Diamond Vista Ridge video (and he’s been a fan since way back when they actually used his whole name), so he remembers with vivid details the few times it looked like Diamond was _really_ enjoying himself.

His favorite video actually is Diamond’s first; a grainy thing that’s disappeared from the internet after Diamond became popular with his hit “ALPHA WEREWOLF PLOWS THREE TWINKS.”  Luckily Stiles had saved it on his hard drive because he’s pretty sure _Hale House_ doesn’t want this (really hot) video of Diamond fingering himself open and then fucking himself on a huge dildo circulating around, not when they’re marketing him as the toppiest top to ever top. But fuck, did that boy love to bottom. Stiles remembers the blissed out look on Diamond’s face clearly, and chuckles to himself as he watches the same face again stare down the camera.

The video starts with an easy strip as Diamond talks to the interviewer. It’s funny, on this side of college and now that Stiles actually has a few videos of his own under his belt, Diamond doesn’t seem like that ridiculously unattainable fantasy anymore. He’s still hot, yeah, but he’s got this cocky attitude that Stiles just wants to _ruin._

And Stiles knows just how he wants to do it.


	2. The Challenger

It only takes a week to process all the applications for the challengers. They’ve chosen seven for Derek to work with for his challenge, one for each day of the week of _Orgasm Wars_. It’s the last day of the shoot, and Derek has come out on top (figuratively and literally) each time, his challenger either coming first or giving up after trying to get Derek off and not succeeding.

It’s not difficult when Derek’s consistently bored with what he does; there’s also the fact that he’s never really been invested in any of his co-stars, and the physical attraction alone has never really been enough for him. It’s just work to him now; Derek doesn’t take any particular pleasure in it beyond the empty, base satisfaction of getting off. And even that is all of his own doing, with Derek having to fantasize diligently about someone he wants to be with, someone he cares about. Lately his go-to fantasy is Stiles, and he’s been actively building up a relationship in his head. The Stiles he imagines is all the sweet and sensitive archetypes in Derek’s favorite movies, and Derek’s currently pretending that he just surprised Derek for their anniversary and drove out to visit him (the details on where his fake boyfriend lives are really vague, but Derek knows it’s quite far away).

Well, this would be the fantasy Derek would be using tonight after a cute movie or something, except it looks like this shoot is going to run overtime because the last challenger is late.

Derek sits crossly on the interview couch, the lights of the set blaring harshly at him as the crew mills about. He just wants this to be over and done with; Derek realized that he forgot to set his DVR to record the new Hallmark movie tonight. He eyes the clock; if the last guy gets here in the next ten minutes, they might still be able to wrap this session up quickly and he’ll be back in his trailer in no time, free to watch his guilty pleasure romances.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I’m late, this studio is huge, like I got lost three times and then Scott and Allison were nervous about their threesome scene and I had to—”

“Just get on the couch,” the director snaps at him.

Derek looks up, startled. It’s _him—_  Stiles—from that indie studio. Derek didn’t even know that his studio would be involved in this competition.

He looks even better in real life, all bright eyed with that _mouth_ that Derek has been thinking about for a long time. His hair is messy and adorable, and he smiles at Derek. “Hey there,” he says, sitting down next to Derek, and suddenly Derek feels nervous, every single fantasy he’s ever had about Stiles springing to the forefront of his mind.

“Save it for the cameras,” the director says. “And we’re rolling in three… two…” he makes a “one” with his finger, and then the red light is on.

Stiles scoots a little closer to Derek, who drops immediately into his stoic werewolf act, stiff and unmoving on the couch.

“Welcome back to _Orgasm Wars_ , this is our very last challenge with our champion, Diamond! And here we are with Sunday’s challenger, Stiles, from…”

“ _True Alpha Studios_ ,” Stiles says easily with a smile. “Check out our website, everyone! We’re all about celebrating thetrust, intimacy and potential of werewolf-human and werewolf-werewolf relations. And by relations,” he waggles his eyebrows, “you know what I mean.”

“So, Stiles, have you ever done anything like this before?”

“What, made a guy come before?” Stiles winks. “I’m sure it happens all the time.”

“Please, like that’s gonna happen,” Derek says, voice a little hoarse, but he’s not sure he believes himself. After all, he’s been coming from the sight and sound of this guy ever since he discovered his videos, and now he’s got the real thing, just about to—

“Why don’t you guys get to know each other a little,” the interviewer suggests.

Normally this means touching and kissing and fondling that dissolves into the scene, but Stiles doesn’t make a move. Instead, he smirks at Derek and asks, “So, how many carats?”

Derek just stares at him in disbelief, and then turns to look at the camera helplessly.

“Dude, seriously, I gave you the perfect setup for you to tell everyone how big your dick is, and you didn’t take it. You know, carats, like you know, how you’re the Diamond?”

“It’s Diamond _Vista_ Ridge _,”_ Derek says testily.

Stiles laughs. “How’d you come up with that, did you do the old, name of your first pet and the street you grew up on?”

That’s actually exactly what Derek did, not that he’ll ever admit to it. “What about you, what’s ‘Stiles’ supposed to mean?”

“It’s my name, dude,” Stiles says petulantly. “Everyone in my studio uses their actual name. We’re not ashamed of what we do.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Derek says, annoyed at himself for falling into the trap.

“Right on, like all this,” Stiles gestures between him and Derek and then to the cameras and the set, “this is art, okay. And speaking of art, you are totally a masterpiece, and I’m totally gonna make you come so hard today.”

“Really,” Derek says, but he can’t help but notice that this weird banter is actually kind of exciting. 

“Yup,” Stiles says, popping the ‘p’ with obvious satisfaction, “I’m gonna make you forget your own name, Mr. Diamond _Vista_ Ridge,” Stiles says, and then in one swift move jumps up and straddles Derek’s lap.

The kiss isn’t supposed to take Derek by surprise, but it does. All the other challengers had gone straight for his dick, trying to get him off as soon as possible. Stiles kisses him voraciously, like he’s been starving for ages and Derek is a feast laid out for him. He grinds his hips into Derek’s lap, hands stroking down Derek’s back lightly as he licks his way into Derek’s mouth, hungry and eager.

And _oh,_ he tastes good. Smells good, too, all of him, arousal wafting off his body in waves, a thick, real genuine arousal for— for Derek. Derek doesn’t completely understand it, but it feels different; he’s smelled strangers’ reaction to his looks before, but this— this feels like _desire._

Derek wants to undress Stiles immediately and just rub himself all over the human, immerse himself in the scent, but the rules of the competition are clear: he can respond, but he can’t initiate contact. And so far with the other challengers, Derek hasn’t wanted to, but Stiles— Stiles is like live electricity in his lap, body warm and humming with pleasure from just kissing Derek.

“This for me?” Stiles pants, pulling away a little, triumphantly rocking his hips against Derek’s now hard cock.

He rolls out of Derek’s lap and settles on his knees; looking up at Derek with his wide amber eyes, lashes blinking darkly against his pale cheeks. Stiles unzips Derek’s jeans easily and takes out his cock, brushing his lips against it, teasing, giving him kittenish licks and then stroking his long, pale fingers up and down the shaft in the slightest feather-light touch.

Derek’s a little stunned. It feels good, and his body is trembling with anticipation, but this is so not the approach he was expecting. Stiles grins at him, licking his lips, and then runs his hands down Derek’s inner thighs. “You alright there, babe?” Stiles asks, licking his lips.

“Y-yeah,” Derek says, and it’s like his body’s reacting not just to Stiles now but also the multiple fantasies Derek’s built up this last week about the fictional Stiles in his head, the one he’s watched and jerked off to every night, pretending he was Derek’s long distance boyfriend. Now Stiles is here, kneeling between his legs, a teasing smile on his face, and then he reaches out to take Derek’s chin in his hand, stroking it gently like they _are_ in a relationship, and Derek’s actually a little overwhelmed right now because the fantasy-Stiles-boyfriend-who-drove-six-hours-to-surprise-Derek-for-their-anniversary is starting to blur with the real Stiles between his legs.

Stiles gets up off the floor, kissing Derek sweetly on the mouth again. “C’mon, babe, let me take care of you,” he croons, and takes off Derek’s t-shirt. The fabric slips over Derek’s head, and he can only see Stiles looking back at him, and Derek forgets about the cameras. Forgets that this is an act, that this is his job, that this isn’t real, because holy fuck, _it feels real._

Stiles kisses him again, lips soft and pliant, and it’s all Derek can do to kiss back, following his lead. It’s like being swept up in a tidal wave, all tongue and skin and teeth, Stiles nipping him playfully on the bottom lip, and then he leans back, arching the bare column of his neck. Offering.

Fuck, Stiles really knows his werewolves. Every instinct in Derek is calling out for him to mark that throat, claim it for his own. Stiles has barely even touched his cock and Derek’s whole body is rigid with arousal, and all they’ve really done is kiss.

Stiles touches Derek gently on the back of his head, pushing him forward into his neck, and Derek is suddenly grateful he doesn’t have to break the rules of the challenge so he can do this. Derek nuzzles into Stiles’ throat, licking at the hollow of skin there, breathing in his scent. He moves to wrap his arms around Stiles, but then suddenly Stiles shifts away, grinning triumphantly again.

Stiles reaches for Derek’s jeans, yanking them off along with his underwear.

Derek is naked and hard, and— fuck, his cock is leaking, pulsing with anticipation. Stiles is still fully dressed and Derek is suddenly aware of how different this must be for all the crew people— the naked werewolf at the mercy of a clothed human. It’s incredibly hot though, and Derek couldn’t be more into it.

“Tell me what you want, babe,” Stiles says, giving him an admiring look.

Derek wants to say “Touch me,” so bad, he wants to beg Stiles to suck his cock, to make Derek come, but he can’t right now, no matter how badly he wants to. He drops his head a little as Stiles steps forward, tilting his head. Stiles runs a hand down Derek’s torso, flicking one of his nipples and then giving Derek another filthy kiss. “Mmm, shy, aren’t you,” Stiles says, and then he takes Derek’s cock and gives it a stroke, just enough of a touch to make him shudder. Derek gasps at the stimulation, wanting more, and Stiles drops a series of kisses on his jawline, moving up to Derek’s sensitive ear, dragging his tongue around the outer whorl.

“I’ve seen all your videos, Mr. Diamond,” Stiles says, not loud enough for any microphone to hear, “I’m a huge fan. I really wanna know though, since I’ve haven’t seen you do this in a long, long time,” and Derek’s stomach drops somewhere into the floor as Stiles’ lips almost touch his ear, whispering, “Do you want me to finger you?”

Oh God. No one’s ever asked this, no one’s ever wanted to give him this. Derek thinks about his collection of vibrators and dildos back at home, safe in a drawer next to his bed, about partners who’ve taken one look at his huge dick and immediately wanted it in them, no questions about whether Derek would give or take, what Derek would want.

Derek manages the slightest of nods as Stiles drops to his knees once more, a determined glint in his eye. He’s arching his back, and the camera is probably getting a nice view of Stiles’ ass right now, all bent over and perfect.

Derek shudders at the first touch of Stiles lips to the base of his cock, and then Stiles swirls it up, slowly, almost lazily, watching for Derek’s reaction. He drags his tongue all the way along the length of Derek’s cock, and then wraps his lips around the head, enveloping Derek in the sweet velvety warmth of his wet mouth.

Derek can’t help but groan desperately as Stiles starts bobbing his head, as he teases the sensitive underside of the cockhead with his tongue, his mouth hot and wet around him. Stiles fondles his balls with his hand, squeezing and groping.

Derek knows that they haven’t been at it that long, but he’s already on the edge when Stiles grabs the lube off the coffee table and coats his fingers with it, making a show of rubbing his fingers together.

He swallows Derek all the way down, cheeks hollowed out lewdly, taking all of Derek into his throat, and Derek just loses any pretense of trying not to enjoy himself. He falls backwards onto the couch, sprawled out on his back, and Stiles hums in amusement, lips wrapped tight around Derek’s cock. And then— and then there’s a finger, teasing around Derek’s rim, and gently massaging the muscle there, probing—and then another finger—

Then gentle turns into relentless as Stiles crooks his fingers in, and the combination of his persistent mouth and his fingers is enough to turn Derek into a desperate, writhing mess. He might as well be begging for it, the way he’s crying out right now, and then he’s coming, toe curling pleasure that runs through his body, spurting right into Stiles’ mouth. It goes on for what seems like forever, Derek gasping as the orgasm tears through him, still shooting white hot come even as his cock slips out of Stiles’ mouth and then continues to spurt, pathetically, all over Stiles’ face.

Derek is panting and lying naked on the couch, absolutely spent, still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Stiles swallows with satisfaction, closing his eyes, extending his tongue to catch the come smeared all around his lips and then reaching up to his face, but he doesn’t wipe the rest away. Derek watches helplessly as Stiles just rubs Derek’s scent into his skin with those wicked fingers of his. Is it intentional? It has to be— he works with werewolves in his studio—he can’t _not_ know what this means, what he’s doing to Derek’s instincts right now.

“Mm, you did so good for me, babe,” Stiles says proudly, and Derek is struck by the sudden overwhelming urge to pull Stiles in close to cuddle.

“And that’s a wrap!”

Derek blinks, and it all comes back; they’re in the studio—a gaffer is moving away, cameras are being wheeled off, people are surging in, the director congratulating Stiles and someone is laughing, telling him, “You cracked the Diamond!”

Someone else offers Stiles a clean towel, and then he’s being whisked away for an exit interview somewhere, people chatting excitedly with him and pulling him away.

Derek recognizes the same P.A. he had last time, who looks up from his clipboard at Derek and then gives him an earnest  smile. “No robe, right?” he says, pleased with himself. “I remembered this time.”

“Right,” Derek says awkwardly, getting up from the couch. He makes the naked walk back to his trailer, feeling everyone’s eyes on him as he goes.

A robe actually would have been nice; Derek feels especially vulnerable right now.

 

* * *

 

Stiles takes the congratulatory hug from Scott, patting him on the back, but he’s not sure how he feels about the victory right now.

“Dude, we’ve gotten like, eight hundred new paid subscribers since that video of yours aired!” Scott says, beaming.

“How do you know it wasn’t you, Allison and Curls McCurly?” Stiles retorts.

“Isaac,” Scott corrects. “His stage name isn’t Curls McCurly, where did you even get that?”

Stiles shrugs. “Where was he from again?”

“ _Hale House_ ,” Scott says. “His stage name is Luke Thighwalker, okay—”

Stiles snorts. “Really, has he ever done a video with someone called Hand Solo?”

Scott grins. “Yeah! It’s his most famous one, I don’t really know why, though.”

Stiles starts laughing because Scott _still_ hasn’t watched Star Wars, and he doubles over hysterically as Scott watches him, crinkling his nose.

“Isaac’s actually really nice, okay. Allison and I are taking him out to dinner tonight.”

“ _Really_ ,” Stiles says, amused, and sure enough, Scott blushes. “Like a date?”

“Shut up,” Scott says. “Anyways, our video didn’t get half as many hits as yours, because you actually won your challenge.”

“Please,” Stiles says. “The distinction on who ‘wins’ any of these challenges is really arbitrary, especially for like the ones where the audiences vote in, like I totally thought you, Allison and Curly’s—”

“Isaac.”

“— Isaac’s video was super sweet, even if the general consensus on the Internet thought the gangbang video was the best. I for one thought that one was kind of cliche.”

Scott crinkles his nose. “Well, I just wanted to say it was a good idea after all, I think we have enough money to film a trailer or something cool for the pirate movie, and then we can launch a kickstarter, you know, hire a screenwriter, and…” Scott’s eyes go all glassy with the possibility of realizing his dream of directing his epic werewolf-human pornographic movie.

“Alright, dreamer, go get ready for your date, I’ve got videos to edit,” Stiles says, sticking his tongue out and shoving Scott playfully towards the door.

Scott gives him another hug. “I know I was hesitant at first, but thanks for pushing the idea. Plus, you’re kind of famous now! Lydia tells me our press team has received tons of requests for you to do more videos, and with partners too. And I think with the budget we can probably hire another actor, someone who you could work with.”

“Cool,” Stiles says distantly.

“Lydia is going to email you all the headshots and stuff from the applicants when we start getting them, let me know what you think, okay,” Scott says, clapping him on the back before leaving.

Stiles splices together a scene where Allison and Scott move from a couch to a bed, making it flow seamlessly, and sets the video to save. So Scott’s thinking of hiring another actor; it would probably work. Stiles really hasn’t done as many partnered videos ever since Lydia discovered most of their werewolf audiences preferred it that the “couples” stayed together and only did videos with each other.

So that had meant no more handjobs with Scott or going down on Allison or fucking Danny (Stiles hadn’t really cared much for any of his scenes with Jackson, man, that guy was boring in bed). The “couples” that ended up being finalized on their website were Allison and Scott, and Jackson and Danny, which left Stiles the odd man out. Of course, Allison and Scott actually were a couple in real life, so turning their chemistry into great videos was no problem at all.

Jackson and Danny were complicated, though. Stiles still remembers in the early days of the studio Jackson had tried to convince Lydia into the video side of work, and then she’d broken up with him (Stiles totally saw it coming, too, like aside from all their other issues, this was what tipped the the scales. Lydia’s always been totally happy to helping them manage the studio as an avid silent partner and politely declined Scott’s offer to be in front of the camera when they first started, but apparently it was difficult for Jackson to understand that a PhD candidate in microbiology might _not_ want to be making porn.)  

After that Jackson was more than willing to sleep with Danny for the sake of the studio when before he had just done solo videos, but Danny and Stiles were already fooling around off camera, which pissed off Jackson to no end when he found out. Then it got kind of all aggravated by the fact that they were all living together in the same house, and working together—and by work they meant fucking one another on screen. Talk about complicated.

So moving to a simple system where Jackson only filmed with Danny and Allison only filmed with Scott and Stiles only filmed … with himself had worked out a lot of the weird issues that had cropped up that first month.

Stiles doesn’t mind the easy work of solo videos. He kind of missed sex, though, which was probably why that one session with Diamond—Derek, his real name is Derek Hale, not that Stiles will admit that he did an extensive Google search— had affected him so much.

Derek had been like a taste of water during a drought, and now Stiles is thirsty for more.

That’s more easily said and done, though. Stiles had thought sex with Derek would be like— like crossing off a thing on his bucket list, having sex with one of his fantasies, but it hadn’t been anything like that. The whole experience still feels surreal, and Stiles remembers every minute of it. The way Derek tasted in his mouth, the way his thighs trembled under his palms, the way he felt inside, hot and tight, Derek whimpering as Stiles fingered him.

Fuck. It’s been more than a few days and it’s like Stiles still has blue balls. He’s so pent up right now, he can barely concentrate on finishing this project. Stiles wished they had had more time; that it hadn’t been a job, that he had the luxury of opening Derek up and then fucking him, or maybe Derek flipping him over and thrusting into him, or Stiles riding him…Stiles even surprised himself with how many times a stray fantasy about Derek knotting him passed across his mind since they’d been together. Stiles doesn’t has a kink for it, not really in the way that humans that don’t understand werewolves do, the people who buy the dildos with inflatable knots or the ones paying people like _Visual Climax_ to see scene after scene of people getting “knotted.” He knows from Scott it’s a big deal, like it can’t happen with just anyone, something about “emotional compatibility.”

So Stiles doesn’t understand why he’s fantasizing about it, because he’s sure he’s the last person on earth who wants _that_ kind of connection. Nope, Stiles is all about casual sex, he can leave that True Love business to romantic people like Scott.

Stiles is probably just wondering what the knotting is like, you know, aside from the emotional bond stuff, it supposedly feels amazing, right? It’s just curiosity, really.

But none of that mattered, since Derek was probably a one-time experience, huge pornstar like that. And it’s not like they’d have the opportunity to meet for work, it’s just...Derek’s cock had been so _perfect_ in his mouth. Stiles has been working solo vids for the longest time, sucking on dildos and working himself, that having a real…

Great. Now he’s hard just thinking about it.

Stiles just needs to… he needs to get this out of his system.


	3. Heartache to Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned it in the beginning notes, but in case you forgot or missed it, this is the chapter where it happens (and is the only time) Stiles hooks up with Danny very briefly in the beginning of this chapter for fun; he and Derek are not in a relationship right now.

“Fuck yeah, give it to me, Stilinski,” Danny breathes, just as Stiles thrusts in one more time; the angle must be good because Danny cries out and goes boneless, coming all over the sheets. Stiles fucks him through his orgasm until Danny is limp and groaning with pleasure, and then slowly withdraws.

Danny flops onto the bed, watching as Stiles ties off the condom and tosses it aside. “This was a lot of fun,” Danny says, grinning. “We haven’t fucked in a long time.”

“Yeah, this was fun. You totally get a lot more into it when you’re not self-conscious about Jackson getting jealous,” Stiles says, smirking.

Danny punches him in the shoulder playfully. “You’re never gonna let go that I once said you were a better fuck, huh.”

“Nope.”

“C’mere,” Danny says, tugging Stiles close.

Suddenly Stiles feels claustrophobic and uncomfortable; his skin too tight on his body. Danny is holding him in his arms, in his bed, and the afterglow of good sex quickly recedes. “Hey, sorry, I gotta go,” Stiles says.

“What, really? Aw, I like to cuddle. There’s no rush, c’mon I know you’re not busy tomorrow. We can marathon Game of Thrones and get takeout or something.” Danny reaches for Stiles’ hand, like he’s about to hold it or something, and Stiles’ stomach lurches. This feels suspiciously more and more like a date than a simple hookup between coworkers, and he needs to get out now. Stiles clambers off the bed, grabbing his boxers off the floor.

“I, uh, forgot, early day tomorrow, Scott wants me to look over some potential scripts,” Stiles lies easily. “See you around the studio?”

Danny looks disappointed, but doesn’t seem too hurt about it. “Cool, catch you later.”

Stiles grabs the rest of his clothes and makes a quick exit.

It’s not that Stiles doesn’t like Danny… he just doesn’t do the romance thing, okay. Sure, he likes hanging out with Danny, and Game of Thrones and takeout sounds awesome, it just-- Stiles doesn’t want to lead Danny on at all. Like he knows they’re friends, and they’ve probably fucked a lot more than most friends have, but there’s a line between fucking and intimacy. Stiles is sure if he stayed for a few episodes they’d end up fucking again, and Stiles would sleep over, and there’d be soft kisses and early morning cuddles, and Danny would make pancakes, and they’d show up to work together with Stiles wearing Danny’s clothes, and then one day in the future Stiles would wake up and have a _boyfriend_.

It’s kind of terrifying. Stiles knows he’s the kind of guy to see something absolutely through, and it’s always led to interesting obsessions in the past-- his fascination with the history of male circumcision, the way he’d lose hours in a Wikipedia spiral, determined to find the answer to a certain question-- it’s the way he is. He knows if he ever falls in love he’ll be done for. It’s the way his dad and mom were together, and the way Stiles knows he can’t ever, ever be.  

Oh, he had wished for it as a kid, giggling as his parents kissed each other over his morning cereal. His parents were each others’ whole world, and Stiles was proud to have been a part of it.

And then his mom had died, and it had completely devastated their family. If his dad hadn’t had Stiles to raise, who knows what might have happened to him. Stiles knows that he couldn’t subject himself to the anything remotely like that.

He doesn’t do romance because he doesn’t want to fall in love, period.

 

* * *

 

It’s probably not a good idea to watch this video, but there haven’t been any new Stiles’ videos and Derek-- Derek is weak.

He’s been in a foul mood ever since Peter gave him a stern lecture and told him he “let him down,” whatever that means. Apparently Peter thinks putting Derek on a brief suspension from filming is some kind of punishment, but Derek is absolutely happy to go on a mini-vacation and not have to pretend to have orgasms in front of a camera.

Derek finds the video easily on the _Orgasm Wars_ website because it’s the most popular one, advertised blatantly on the homepage with the banner “DIAMOND GETS CRACKED BY INDIE TWINK.”

The lighting isn’t as flattering as Stiles’ regular videos, and it feels a little harsh and bright, but it’s _Stiles._ And Derek. And Stiles kissing Derek, deep throating him enthusiastically, cheeks hollowed out, Derek’s cock visibly bobbing in his throat--

Fuck.

Derek skips ahead, and pauses on the frames where he’s about to come. Whoever edited this did a good job of making sure you couldn’t tell Derek was getting fingered-- they cut to Stiles’ mouth on Derek’s cock, and then Derek coming all over him. Probably Peter’s doing. Wouldn’t want his prime stud to be known as an equal opportunity player, as it were.

The last bit is what Derek is looking for: the exit interview.

It’s filmed outside the studio; all the other rooms must have been taken with other challenges at the time. It starts with Stiles looking dazed, lips red and swollen, hair a complete mess. There are still a few traces of come on his face, shiny and wet, and he looks utterly debauched.

“So, Stiles, you just defeated the rock-hard Diamond who was the Tease Champion for three years running! How do you feel?”

Stiles gives the camera a triumphant look and then licks his lips. He raises one eyebrow at the camera suggestively and then spreads his legs a little, and the camera zooms in on the obvious bulge in his pants. There’s a wet spot that makes Derek’s mouth water. Stiles is--was-- hard and leaking _for him_.

The interviewer laughs. “Well, I’m sure after today you won’t be short of any takers to help you out with that. How do you think Diamond will react? He kind of has a reputation for a temper. Remember ‘ALPHA SCARES THE ORGASM FROM HIS BETA’?”

 

Stiles just laughs and smiles. “It was absolutely my pleasure,” he says sincerely, blinking those long lashes of his in contemplation, and then he shifts closer to the camera, body all sinewy grace, learning forward. His gaze is off-focus of the camera, on the interviewer, but the way he cants his shoulders cockily and steps closer, saying, “And if he wants to get me back, he knows where to find me,” sends a wave of heat pooling directly to Derek’s cock. Derek watches as Stiles looks up and continues in a breathy rasp-- is it from the time from Derek’s cock just now-- “Same goes for anyone who wants to see more of me, check out _True Alpha Studios.”_

Stiles points his finger at the camera and winks, and then the video fades out to the _Orgasm Wars_ logo.

Derek resets the video a little so he can watch Stiles say again, “he knows where to find me,” in that provocative tone of his. He watches Stiles say it three times and wink, trying to figure out if this is actually an invitation to see him again or if Stiles is doing it for the camera.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, take three,” Scott says, shaking the clapperboard that says “Stiles’ Interview For New Model.” The sound of it clacking closed echoes across the room.

Stiles coughs and looks at the camera, then at Scott, and then he can’t help cracking up, shaking with nervous laughter. “I’m sorry dude, this is weird, I’ve gotten used to being the only one in the room for my videos,” he says.

“Are you okay?” Scott asks, frowning. He turns off the camera. “You have been really off lately. Is it the sleeping with Derek thing?”

“What? No! Totally forgot about that,” Stiles says.

Scott makes a face. Even if he weren’t a werewolf, he’d know that Stiles is lying. But like a great friend, he doesn’t mention it.

“It’s actually your face, dude, or that thing on your face, I don’t know how Allison tolerates it,” Stiles says, turning the conversation around easily. He knows Scott loves to talk about his facial hair.

Sure enough, Scott makes a face. “It’s a cool mustache,” he says. “Isaac thinks it’s sexy.”

“Uh huh, does he actually thinks its sexy or is he saying that because you guys are a new thing and he wants to stay in your good graces?” Stiles asks. “How is that going, by the way?”

Scott sighs, and Stiles can practically see the hearts floating in the air. Jesus. It was like this when Scott and Allison first started dating, and now Stiles has to go through it all over again.  Except double, because yesterday he listened to Allison talk about Isaac’s cheekbones for like an hour. “They are so sharp they could cut diamonds, Stiles.” And then, of course, that had gotten Stiles thinking about diamonds and another Diamond in particular, and he’d gotten lost in a fantasy until Allison promptly realized what happened. “You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you, I’m so sorry,” she says. “If it makes you feel better, Isaac tells me that Derek is, like, on our website all the time.”

What does that even mean, Derek is on their website? Is he watching Stiles’ videos? Stiles had racked his brain over and over again trying to figure out what that meant, parsing over all possibilities like Derek was jerking off angrily to the image of the guy who beat him at his challenge (ha!), to Derek… missing him (why Stiles is imagining this-- or wants to imagine this, he has no idea).

So now Stiles is here trying to film...well, basically what sounds exactly like a dating ad.

“I don’t think I’d say this, Scott, like why would any potential actors want to know that I like Thai food but am unfortunately allergic to peanuts?” Stiles asks, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s for our couple theme, okay. Lydia thought it would be a nice detail, and I agree. Even if you guys aren’t going to date in real life, it would be cool if we found a someone who would be a good fit for the studio, someone who appreciates you and your interests. And since they’re going to be working with you all the time, the least you can do right now is help me find someone nice for you to fake-date and fuck on camera.”

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles grumbles. “But seriously, Scott--”

Scott cuts him off with a loud, “Take four,” then turns on the camera and clicking the clapperboard again.

Stiles tries his best to give the camera an audacious smirk, but he’s not really in the mood. “Hey there, I’m Stiles from _True Alpha Studios,_ and you might have noticed for the past year, I’ve been all by my lonesome.” He pouts a little for effect. “I know Scott and Allison have each other, and Jackson and Danny have each other, but what about me, eh?” A faux dramatic sigh goes here.

Stiles leans back against the chair, arching his neck in feigned boredom. “Well, if you’d like to join our team at _True Alpha Studios,_ and you’re interested in getting knotty with me--” Stiles makes a face at the line, breaking character. “Scott, that’s terrible.”

Scott scowls at him. “C’mon, Stiles, this is important. Can we at least get _some_ footage? Like… here. How about this,” Scott says, holding up a copy of his script. He rips it in two. “Just talk about the kind of person you’d like to hang out with, okay?”

“Fine,” Stiles says, and when Scott turns on the camera again, he starts talking. For some reason, Scott doesn’t stop him and actually films the whole thing.

Stiles counts off on his fingers. “First, I’m like, totally versatile. I’m into it if you’re versatile too, but I’m sure we can work something out if you like it one way or another. But like, I need someone who’s down with receiving pleasure, ‘cause I’m totally a giver. Like, I’ll eat you out for _hours_ , okay, just because I wanna.”

He talks and talks, listing a bunch of kinks he’d be into, and Scott doesn’t even raise an eyebrow when Stiles mentions he’d be down with getting fucked by someone with their wolf face on, ‘cause he thinks it would be hot. It’s surprising Scott doesn’t stop him, even though last week at their brainstorming meeting he said that people weren’t ready for partially shifted sex yet, and they needed to have a better hold on the market before they _really_ try pushing the envelope.

“Right, and you also should like Star Wars, if you don’t get any references do not even try, go home, the Force is not with you.” Stiles pauses for the first time since he’s started, blinking in consideration. “Okay, I will think about it if you are willing to sit through a marathon with me, so I can introduce you to the masterpieces that they are.” Stiles grins, flopping over on the couch, waving his hands excitedly. “Also, definitely apply if you can talk comics with me, because I’m all about that, and seriously what is going on in the DC universe and why don’t we have a Wonder Woman movie yet?”

Scott lets Stiles ramble on for a few minutes about the injustices in comics and the lack of representation, and Stiles does feel a little guilty. He’s supposed to be trying to market himself, not vent about feminism. Then again, if his partner-to-be doesn’t believe in equal rights, then they don’t belong with _True Alpha Studios_. Or with Stiles, for that matter.

Stiles waggles his eyebrows at the camera, and Scott’s giving him a thumbs up so they must have enough footage. “Right, so to apply for the newest position-- and hopefully many positions--” he winks suggestively, and then says, “go to our website and click on the button that says ‘apply now.’ And remember to go get a physical so we know you’re in the very best of health. You check in with your doctor, okay? Looks like you’re missing some Vitamin Me.”

 

* * *

 

Derek checks for updates to the _True Alpha Studios_ website everyday. It’s kind of sad that he’s memorized the interface because he’s visited the site so often, waiting for a new video, even though he’s subscribed to Stiles’ profile and should get an email if it happens. It wouldn’t matter, since Derek’s on the site everyday anyways, rewatching another of Stiles’ videos.  

Derek cleans out his web history now, even though it’s his own personal laptop, because apparently he can’t count on his friends to keep their noses out of his business. The other day Isaac had swung by his trailer to borrow his computer for some last minute date planning and had promptly started cracking up, leaving Derek confused.

“I didn’t know that looking up the availability of opera seats for tomorrow would be so funny,” Derek had said.

“They’ve got some hot stuff over at _True Alpha Studios,_ eh?” Isaac says, amusement written all over his face. He hadn’t let it up and has been teasing Derek relentlessly since then about his supposed crush on his co-star.

Today Derek is prepared; Isaac won’t be able to tease him for constantly being on their website because he’s wiped all the evidence.

“How’d your date go?” Derek asks when Isaac stops by with philly cheesesteaks from Bollini’s, Derek’s favorite restaurant. Obviously Isaac is trying to ply his favor for something if he’s bribing Derek with food.

“I think I’m in love,” Isaac says seriously. “Like, I know if I had met either of them on their own I would have definitely been a goner, but them _together?_ I don’t even know how I’m still standing--”

Derek coughs, holding up his sandwich pointedly. Isaac blushes and changes the subject to the new aquarium in Boyd’s trailer, and how awesome and ridiculous it was to have a shark. They chuckle a little bit about Boyd’s hobbies as they eat lunch, and  it’s all fine and casual until Isaac folds up his sandwich wrapper and gives Derek a contemplative look.

“So, uh, I know you’ve been watching their videos a lot, but what do you think of _True Alpha Studios_?” Isaac asks quietly.

“I think they’ve got the right idea,” Derek says. “Have you read their mission statement? I’ve never seen anything so progressive, and I’ve read the entirety of the _American Werewolves for Educating, Respect and Equality_ platform.”

“Yeah, that sounds awesome! I think Scott says his studio actually has the AWERE seal of approval. I mean he’s talked about his mission statement some but I haven’t read it, he’d probably be super impressed if I have--” Isaac grabs Derek’s laptop, opening up a browser and bringing up the website. He appears to get sidetracked, though because he turns the screen excitedly.

“Look, they’re hiring new actors! This is awesome!” Isaac exclaims. Derek knows he and Isaac have talked about both wanting to leave _Hale House_ studios before, but it’s always seemed like a pipe dream. Now Isaac looks serious, like there’s an actual opportunity at a studio he likes.

Derek looks at the screen, and sure enough the website has a flashing banner underneath their main logo with the words “APPLY NOW.” Isaac clicks the link, and it moves to a page detailing the application process.

At the top of the page is also a video.

With Stiles.

Isaac doesn’t notice Derek’s mouth dropping open in surprise and he clicks the video, and some light orchestral music fills the air. Derek and Isaac watch Stiles grin and flirt with the camera, and he starts talking ridiculousness about… okay, this actually sounds like Stiles is detailing his dream partner. He’s talking about his favorite foods and movies and… Derek’s going to have to watch this again later when Isaac leaves. Not to commit all of Stiles’ interests to memory or anything, it’s for science. You know, to study how this studio does their marketing.

“Awesome, I’m definitely going to apply,” Isaac says. “You thought Stiles is good to work with, right?”

“Wait, what?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, he totally worked you over. I don’t think I’d mind filming exclusively with him, although...” Isaac says, musing.

What.

“Is that part of the job description?” Derek asks in what he hopes is a casual voice.

“Dude, were you even watching the video?” (Derek had been staring at Stiles’ mouth.)  “Stiles totally said he’s looking for a new filming partner, like it’s the deal with them, they do couple videos only, like there’s Scott and Allison, and those other guys, and now Stiles needs someone. I could totally do it, right? I mean, do him. Or he could do me, really he looks like he’s good--”

“Don’t you need to be on set in like, five minutes,” Derek says, heart pounding. “You have a scene with Erica today, right?”

“Yep, totally,” Isaac says. “Thanks for reminding me. Good lunch, I’ll see you later,” and he leaves, clapping Derek on the shoulder.

Derek watches Isaac saunter off, whistling to himself, and then he shuts the trailer door.

Oh no. Even if Isaac doesn’t apply for that position, Derek is sure there are plenty of people lined up who are willing to be Stiles’ new… filming partner.

Derek looks at the frozen image of Stiles grinning jauntily at the camera, feeling a little queasy at the idea. But it’s not like he has the right to be jealous, not really. It’s not like they were-- well, it had just been one orgasm, really. A fantastic one nonetheless, but in the porn industry that’s almost akin to a handshake, and Derek has no reason at all to feel the strange and terrifying combination of possessiveness and jealousy surging through him.


	4. Rendezvous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE CHAPTER UPDATE IN ON DAY WOO! Love you guys. \\(^_^)/

_Visual Climax_ is hosting a post- _Orgasm Wars_ celebration gala at the home of their CEO, Deucalion. “Home” meaning a ridiculously ornate mansion, already teeming with people, laughing, drinking, eating, and dancing, and Derek’s only been here for an hour.

Derek slips free of the conversation Peter is having with other equally greasy executives of another studio, not willing to endure any more of their conversation about Alpha sex rituals (which Derek was sure Peter was making up).

The dance floor is rampant with bodies rocking to the beat, colored lights flashing, the combined heat pulsating through the room. 

“Hey, it’s the Diamond, hardest cock in the land!” a voice calls out. It belongs to a tall, thin man, looking down at Derek.

“Um--” Derek says, about to just say thanks and walk away, the way he normally deals with all his fans, when another man curls up to hook-nose and laughs.

“Not anymore!” this one screeches, laughing hysterically.

Derek scowls and walks away. He doesn’t care at all about the title, thinks being known as the “rock hard” Diamond isn’t anything to be proud about. Still, he feels self conscious, the way everyone in the crowd seems to look at him and whisper to themselves.

The party is raging on, and Derek ignores the offers from the waitstaff for wolfsbane-laced tequila. It doesn't really work that well. It's just placebo effect and will also give you a raging headache the next morning, but it's apparently a huge hit. Whatever.

Derek can’t find Peter or anyone else from his studio as he searches the crowd, and is about to give it up and call a car to take him home when he spots Stiles dancing wildly in the corner.

Stiles is all energy and quick movements, jerking his body in lewd thrusts, a bright, carefree smile on his face, and Derek loses track of how long he stands there, mesmerized. He doesn’t go unnoticed, though-- Stiles quickly spots Derek and his face lights up. “Hey! Diamond Derek!” Stiles shouts over the noise, rushing over. 

“It’s just Derek,” Derek says, mind going blank as Stiles turns around and starts grinding his ass into Derek’s hips.

“Dance with me,” Stiles demands. “C’mon, you’re not even ‘on’ right now and you look stiff as fuck. And not in a good way,” he says.

"You're drunk," Derek says, snorting.

Stiles laughs at him, shaking his head, then gives Derek a challenging smile as he starts to dance, his body and presence just commanding  _watch me._

The beat of the music is at a good level for werewolf ears; loud enough to be distinct and pound through his veins, the suggestive lyrics calling up heat from his body, but not too loud (Derek’s been to enough human parties to know) to be painful. Stiles’ body is a vision to watch, wrapped in a tight shirt and even tighter pants, shaking and just _presenting_ himself.

Derek finds himself growling possessively without meaning to when another man dances a little _too_ close, and Derek instinctively grabs Stiles hips and yanks him flush against his own body, moving to the rhythm. Maybe it's the music or the fact that Derek has been thinking about Stiles and now that Stiles is here, in his arms, but Derek just gives in to the urge to press his face into Stiles' neck, inhaling his scent. He smells _good_ \-- this close to Stiles' skin, Derek can hear Stiles' blood pounding through his veins, and the smell of alcohol permeating the room is gone, replaced with just Stiles' scent, citrusy and light, just clean sweat and faintly of sugared soda.

“Yeah,” Stiles moans as Derek nuzzles against his skin. Today there isn’t a hint of any other werewolf on him, like he’s fresh and ripe and ready to be claimed--

Before Derek knows it he’s mouthing at Stiles’ neck, tongue grazing over his skin, and Stiles arches into the touch.

Stiles reaches and strokes him through his jeans, eyes darkening and the scent of desire rolling off of him in waves.

“Let’s see if there’s a free room upstairs,” Stiles says, hooking a finger into Derek’s belt loops and leading him toward the stairs.

Derek follows him, heart pounding nervously. He’s never done this before-- hooked up with a co-star outside of work, but he wants Stiles so bad, and the logical side of him is trying to come up with all the ways this isn't a good idea. But with Stiles looking so good in front of him, it’s difficult to think about anything else.

They don’t even make it halfway up the stairs before Derek pushes Stiles up against the wall and is kissing him furiously.

Stiles makes a noise of surprise, and Derek starts doubting himself for the few seconds that Stiles is very still, and then he starts kissing Derek back in equal fervor. He groans, tasting every bit as good as Derek remembers. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” Stiles says.

“Yeah, you-- I want you _so_ bad,” Derek says.

They fumble upstairs, falling into an empty bedroom and they’re tugging each other’s clothes off furiously. There’s no cameras, no need to make a show, nobody to prove anything to, and Derek just loses himself in the taste of Stiles’ mouth. He gets pushed down onto the bed, the sheets rustling against his bare skin, and then Derek spreads his legs shamelessly. “Stiles, please,” he says. “Want you to fuck me,” he says.

“Really,” Stiles purrs. “That what you want,” he says, ducking between Derek’s thighs, and _oh_ \-- starts licking at his hole. Derek cries out, grasping desperately at the sheets, and Stiles teases his rim mercilessly until he’s a worn out mess. “You’re fucking beautiful like this,” Stiles says, pulling a tube of lube from the pocket of the discarded pants on the floor.

Derek moans when Stiles gets a finger in him, stretching him out, and Stiles takes his time, pressing sweet kisses all along Derek’s thighs as he does, avoiding his leaking cock dripping onto his belly.

“You gonna come without me touching you,” Stiles says breathily. It isn’t a question and Derek shudders a little at the thought of it. Stiles pushes in finally, and Derek just feels so _good_. He wants more, he wants it hard, he wants Stiles to fuck him fast right now, but Stiles seems content just to slowly feed him an inch of his dick at a time.

Frustrated, Derek scrambles off and then turns over. “C’mon, mount me,” Derek says. “Give it to me, please.”

“Yeah?” Stiles says, grabbing his hips and then he’s _thrusting._

Derek’s absolutely lost in the sensation, and Stiles throws him down on the bed and gives him as good as he’s got, slamming his hips into him, and Derek groans, shifting against the sheets with his cock, trying to find some relief.

“I got you, babe,” Stiles says, kissing the back of his neck, slowing down the pace. This isn’t what Derek expected from a quick fling with a costar, but _this_ \--this is starting to feel more like one of his fantasies with the boyfriend-Stiles in his head.

Derek finds a hand covering one of his own, fingers squeezing as Stiles rocks into him, and he feels so full, so good, he just wants more, more of Stiles like this, to make love to him and wake up with him and cook him pancakes and he wonders if Stiles would like watching the Hallmark channel with him--

Derek’s too caught up with his thoughts and he doesn’t realize it at first, but his body feels suddenly warm and tight all over, and he’s gripping the sheets as Stiles fucks into him ardently, groaning as he spills his come inside Derek,

Derek gasps as he ruts against the bed, trying to find relief, but his cock--his cock--

“Derek, you okay?” Stiles says, pulling out, leaving Derek aching and empty. He feels not just hard, but ridiculously so, he doesn’t understand--

Stiles flips him gently onto his back. “Oh my God,” he says in awe. “You’ve popped a knot,” he says, reaching out to touch.

“What--” Derek says, barely managing to comprehend what’s happening before Stiles is stroking the swollen base of his cock, and Derek shudders at the slightest touch of Stiles’ fingers. “Sensitive,” he gasps, and then Stiles is licking at it, tongue lapping fondly at the knot, making Derek whine with need. Stiles licks from the knot to the tip of Derek’s cock, and then he stretches his jaw before going for--

“Stiles, what are you--”

“Mm,” is the answer, because Stiles’ mouth is full. And damn, is it _full._ Stiles has somehow managed to get all of Derek’s cock and his knot into his mouth, and it feels _amazing._ Stiles is just nursing at it, sucking slowly until Derek can’t take it anymore and he comes in a dizzying rush.

Stiles swallows down his come, licking his lips, strangely reminiscent of their first meeting, except this time he moves up to the bed to meet Derek’s mouth in a slow kiss, and then collapses bonelessly on Derek’s chest, tucking one of his legs between Derek’s thighs, one of his hands reaching for Derek’s hand, fingers curling together.

Derek falls asleep this way, with the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat next to his own.

 

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up to the realization that he’s being _spooned._ His head is pounding and his mouth is dry; ugh, last time he skips dinner before going to a party and insists on dancing all night. Stiles blinks and doesn’t recognize the surroundings; an art-deco guest room of some sort, devoid of personal effects.

Okay, not only is there spooning, but there is handholding involved, too.

Like, seriously?

Stiles looks at the large hand entangled with his, patting the hairy arm draped over his chest. He turns over and is a little struck by the sight of a sleeping Derek Hale next to him. A little further intake of his body and the situation reveals they’re both naked, legs entwined.

Well, this is cozy. Stiles has never really been a cuddle person. He slowly squirms out of Derek’s hold and sits up on the bed, watching Derek sleep. There’s a faint smile on the edge of his lips, and his arms move automatically, searching, when Stiles moves away. Stiles grabs a stray pillow and sets it next to Derek, who apparently finds it an acceptable replacement, holding onto it tightly.

Stiles takes a deep breath, the memories coming back to him slowly-- dancing by himself after Scott and Allison had left with their new curly boytoy, finding Derek, grinding on the dancefloor, making out on the stairs, stumbling into the room and then--

Fuck, Stiles doesn't have time to stand here and fondly remember the evening's events, any minute now Derek could wake up, and this is certainly a  _morning after_ scenario--with cuddles--

Stiles scrambles off the bed. The sheet falls off the bed as Stiles stands up, and Derek is gloriously naked, sprawled out on the bed. Stiles takes a minute to admire the hair running down his broad torso, the way he’s spreading his legs--

Wait a minute.

Stiles leans in closer as Derek shifts a little, just to see if-- and that’s definitely come starting to drip out of him.

After shaking the split-second of arousal and the urge to lick Derek clean, stretch him out, waking him up and maybe fucking him again-- Stiles feels a panic start to set in.  

He gets up and pulls on his clothes as quickly as he can, and then on a whim turns around to look at Derek-- who is spooning the pillow now, murmuring something to it. Something that sounds like “Stiles.”

Oh, _fuck._

Stiles closes the door gently behind him, ever so slowly, and then dashes down the hall.

He passes by other people still sleeping on the floor amidst the debris from the party. In the light of day everything looks like a mess-- the mysterious colors and decorations last night now look gaudy and ridiculous; there are cups scattered all around the large room that was used as a dance floor, and Stiles sidesteps quite a bit of broken glass.

The kitchen is quiet, and Stiles catches the blissful scent of coffee. There’s one other guy pouring himself a cup, and Stiles vaguely recognizes him, but not really. One of the other studio executives that Scott had called gross, probably. Stiles’ head hurts way too much to try and remember what this guy’s name is. He finds a paper cup piled next to the coffee and the man hands Stiles the pot, looking him over.

“Morning,” Stiles says politely, pouring himself a cup.

“Well, this is kismet,” the man says, laughing at himself. “I should have known the man of the hour would have gotten lucky at one of our parties. My partner was convinced you skipped out early last night before we could talk to you, but I’m just glad to get the chance to meet you. Deucalion, CEO of _Visual Climax_ , Inc.” He holds his hand out for Stiles to shake.

Stiles takes the hand reluctantly, brain slowly coming back online.    

“And you’re Stiles, current _Orgasm Wars_ champion!” Deucalion says.

What kind of douchebag wears sunglasses indoors, Stiles wonders. “Um, yeah, that’s me,” he says.

“Did you have a good time?” Deucalion asks, stepping into Stiles’ space. “I gotta say, your video with Diamond was quite...inspiring. We could use a man of your talent over at Visual.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a business card, holding it out delicately in his two fingers.

Stiles’ head is buzzing irreverently, and he wants nothing more to tell this dude to fuck off. He wishes Scott was here. Scott would know what to say, something perfectly neutral and placating, that would be diplomatically thankful for the attention and also be a firm declination.

“Uh… okay, cool,” Stiles says, taking the card and shoving it unceremoniously into his pocket. “Sorry, dude, I gotta go. Great party, though.” And then he backs out of the room with his coffee, walking quickly through the house (how big is this mansion?) until he finds the exit.

He spots his Jeep parked at the end of the elongated driveway, and Stiles takes a second, blinking at the bright sunlight. He turns around, shaking his head at the opulent house in the middle of this densely wooded suburbia… it’s practically got its own parking lot. Does like that Deucalion guy actually live here or did he just rent out this place for stupid parties? He certainly didn’t seem to care that people were fucking up his house or fucking all over in it.

Well, considering his business, he probably didn’t care at all.

The headache is receding slightly, and Stiles feels a lot more awake but not much more calm. His jaw is a little sore for some reason, though. He climbs into his Jeep, pressing the #1 speed dial for Scott and listens to it ring...once...twice... three times…

Scott picks up on the fourth ring. “Stiles? Are you okay?”

“Scott,” Stiles says, voice breaking. “I slept with Derek Hale last night.”

“Awesome,” Scott says. “Haven’t you been wanting to do that, for like, _ages?”_ There’s a voice murmuring something in the background, which is also fine; Allison can talk Stiles down too.

“Yeah, but like… having sex with him, not-- Scott, you don’t understand, okay. I _slept_ with him, as in like, falling asleep in the same bed, cuddling, slept with him, not just fucking-- although we did that too.”

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Allison’s voice says soothingly.

“No, it’s not,” Stiles whines. “He spooned me, okay. And I-- I liked it.”

“Awwww,” Allison and Scott say in unison.

“Derek must really like you,” says an unfamiliar male voice.

Stiles freezes. “Who is that?” he says a bit more shrilly than he means to. “Is that Curly McCurls?”  

The voice laughs “It’s Isaac, but you can call me Curly, I don’t mind.”

Allison makes a cooing noise, and then Stiles can hear what sounds like kissing. “You guys! I’m freaking out here!” Stiles says indignantly.

“Right,” Scott says. “Look, everything is going to be okay. I know you’re not really about the cuddles, but you said you liked it. And that’s really cool! I’m proud of you, man.”

Stiles sighs, and then Allison takes the phone. “Look, I think it’s perfectly fine you’re a little nervous about this, because, well, it’s _you_ , but I’m with Scott on this. It’s nice that you enjoyed an intimate moment like that, and I think it might be cool if you wanted to explore it a little more.”

“Ally, I’m not going to date the guy just because I said I happened to not completely hate doing a non-sexual thing with him, okay,” Stiles says grudgingly. “I’m never going to see him again anyways. I put my whoozit in his whatsit and it was good. End of story.”

 

* * *

 

Derek wakes up slowly, his body still relaxed and sated from last night. The memories are still fresh in his mind, and he curls up next to Stiles, holding him close as he slowly drifts to consciousness, thinking about how good Stiles had felt, his hands on Derek’s hips, moving inside Derek, kissing his neck.

There’s warm sunlight on his skin, streaming in from the open window, and Derek reluctantly opens his eyes.

He’s not holding Stiles.

Derek pushes the pillow away, disoriented. He’s surrounded by Stiles’ scent, still fresh from last night, but there isn’t any Stiles in the bed with him. Derek’s stomach drops with realization when he touches the sheets around him and finds everything is cold.

He dresses slowly, in a daze. Derek tries to convince himself Stiles had a meeting. something, anything. That probably was it. He looks around for a note, something to explain why Stiles didn’t stay in bed with him.

Maybe Stiles just didn’t want to wake Derek up. He did give him the pillow to spoon, after all.

Derek walks downstairs, thinking about asking the first person he sees if they’d seen Stiles that morning, if he’d said anything about needing to be someplace, and then thinks better of it. There’s still a number of people passed out in the trashed ballroom, but Derek can hear people talking quietly, smell coffee being brewed, and apparently it looks like there’s an orgy planned.

He needs to get out of here.

Derek calls a cab and waits awkwardly in the foyer, thinking about Stiles. He’s not at all like the fantasy Stiles he’s dreamed up in his head, the sweet one who would have woken him with a kiss to the nose and then asked if he wanted to have brunch. But the real Stiles is just as-- if not more than-- compelling.

And Derek had knotted with him.

He hadn’t even thought it was _possible,_ for Derek to even think about feeling like that about anyone, but his body apparently recognized the potential there. And it was definitely something that Derek didn’t want to lose now that he’d found it.

He has to see Stiles again. He wants to know more about him, the real one, know what makes him laugh, wants to make him laugh.

Derek wants a lot of things, and isn’t sure where to start.

Maybe getting a phone number, that would be good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the incredible [wearethecyclones/derbobbs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Derbobbs/works) and I were talking and I totally forget the context (we were talking about writing sexytimes? probably?) and she said, "put his whoozit in his whatsit and it was good" and it was so beautiful I told her I'd put it into my fic as a tribute to her.


	5. Dream A Little Dream

“ _True Alpha Studios_ ,” a female voice answers in a brusque tone.

Derek forgets what he’s about to say and hangs up the phone.

He takes a deep breath. He just wants to talk to Stiles, it shouldn’t be that difficult. He calls again.

“ _True Alpha Studios_ ,” the same voice answers, and this time it’s a bit sharper.

“I, um, can I speak with Stiles?” Derek asks.

“I’m sorry, our actors aren’t available to talk directly to fans, but I can give you an address to forward any fanmail--”

“I’m from _Hale House_ , actually, and I wanted to ask--”

“Oh, I actually have on file that the PR representative from _Hale House_ is a Cora Hale, and I just talked with her a few days ago, so you can drop the act. Stiles doesn’t get involved with fans.”

And she hangs up on him.

Derek grits his teeth and fumbles with his cell until he’s got Cora’s number ringing.

“‘Sup, bro,” Cora says. “Thought you’d be enjoying your vacay.”

“You’ve talked to the people at _True Alpha_ before, right?”

“Uh huh, why?” Derek can’t see it, but he can totally imagine Cora narrowing her eyes.

“I need to talk to Stiles.”

“Why?”

“I just wanna talk to him,” Derek says.

“About what?”

 _“Cora,”_ Derek groans. What is he supposed to say? He thinks he found _the one?_ His dream guy, the one who got away after a night of passion, and all he needs now is a phone number and he can get his happily ever after?

Derek has a strange vision of himself standing underneath the balcony of _True Alpha Studios_ (this is Derek’s subconscious, okay, everyone has a romantic balcony to be wooed on), Stiles leaning over the railing, looking adoringly down at him, sighing happily, “You found me."  Then he leaps (floats?) off the balcony edge and lands in Derek’s arms, and then they kiss, a cello plays a triumphant and beautiful melody, swelling up in the background. Cue one last shot of Derek and Stiles gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, and then roll credits.

“Derek? You still there?” Cora asks.

Derek shakes himself.

“Look, I just think he’s um, interesting, and we had an unfinished conversation at the _Visual Climax_ party that I wanted to continue, that’s all.”

“Did you hook up with him?” Cora asks curiously.

“I--he--” there’s really no point in lying to his sister, she’s going to be insufferable about it anyways. “Yeah,” Derek admits. “I popped a knot, okay.”

“Ooooh,” Cora says delightedly. “Tell me more.”

“Cora, I’m not gonna--”

“You liiiiiike him,” she teases. “Aw, you want me to ask Lydia for his number?”

“No, just-- just tell them to get him to call me?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth Derek realizes how stupid he sounds. “Ugh, just forget it.”

“Wait! You do know your crush is like, holding auditions for a new fuckbuddy, right? You should totally apply.”

Derek sighs, the doubts swirling up inside him again. That would be really forward, right? When he first found out about the new position with Isaac, Derek had been excited at first, but it’s not really how he pictured reintroducing himself to Stiles. “I’m not about to--”

“Right, you’re totally gonna let this chance fly by?” Cora asks.

Derek huffs and is about to retort when she continues sharply, “Please, like you aren’t gonna be jealous at all when this person is gonna start filming exclusively with him, making videos with him constantly. And not just sex scenes too, you know _True Alpha Studios_ is all about the relationship story experience, so you’re gonna get these cute lovey-dovey scenes of Stiles and this lucky person frolicking around the city and cuddling…”

Derek presses his face into his palms and knows he’s already lost. “Fine.”

“Look, I’ll even help you put together your resume and stuff,” Cora says excitedly. Derek could hear her typing away in the background. “Ugh, these headshots of yours are terrible, I can’t believe our uncle thinks people dig this serial-killer vibe. Can you take new ones?”

Derek reluctantly finds himself booking a photographer at Cora’s suggestion and helping her create a new resume for himself over the phone.

“You’re totally gonna get it, and when you do, I’m gonna leave Peter here all by his lonesome to run his terrible studio into the ground. Plus I know Lydia’s going to be busy with her dissertation so they’re gonna need help with PR.” Cora squeals. “Ah! You’re gonna be with your boyfriend and we’ll both get to work with cool people! This is gonna be awesome.”

Derek thinks it’s a little early to be calling Stiles his boyfriend, but he’s optimistic about it.

 

* * *

 

Stiles knows this is going to be the last solo video he films in a long while, so he should be making it good, enjoying the last bit of time he’ll be able to creatively do whatever he wants in a video.

The only problem is he can’t stop thinking about Derek.

Their video together had been so good.

Stiles sighs at the camera, pulling on his dick, thinking about fucking Derek in all these different ways. Slow, intense sex facing each other-- or maybe Stiles can flip him over and fuck his brains out. Or Derek could just take control and just ride him till they were both coming.

Stiles moans, letting his imagination take over, imagining the hands around his cock are Derek’s hands, or how he’s thrusting up into his fist is actually the tight wet heat of Derek’s hole. He thinks about how it felt-- how it might feel again, plying his memory for something to augment his fantasy. The hot clench of Derek’s ass around his cock, the warmth of skin underneath him, the tattoo on his back muscles shifting as Derek moans with every thrust, the taste of sweat on the back of Derek’s neck as Stiles kisses him there--

The memories of their night at the party were so hot, though a little confusing. Stiles blames his overactive imagination and the years he spent jerking off to Diamond Vista Ridge. He definitely remembers fucking Derek, but Stiles is pretty sure he made up some of the details in his head. 

Stiles pumps his cock, closing his eyes, thinking about the way Derek looked as Stiles thrust into him; he’d turned around with a desperate, wanton expression, and then clutched at the sheets, rutting his own swollen cock, swollen like…

Stiles loses track of what he was thinking, but the image of Derek in his mind, gasping, _“Stiles!”_ with pleasure is enough to send him over the edge. Stiles comes, spurting over himself, and he winks at the camera and says his signature, “Thanks, babe,” before reaching to shut it off. Stiles takes a deep breath, coming down from the warmth of the orgasm and the memory of Derek underneath him slowly fading to the back of his mind.

Stiles cleans himself up and turns off the camera, pulling on his basketball shorts and then plucking the memory card out of the camera, heading over to the office area of the room. Hopefully with all these new subscribers they’ll be able to afford a bigger studio; it would be cool to film in nicer digs.

There’s not much to edit, and Stiles is putting the finishing touches on his video when Scott walks in.

“Hey, how’s it feel to film your last solo?” he asks, grinning.

Stiles shrugs. “Doesn’t feel like anything. Wanna look this over before I put it on the website?”

“Sure.” Scott plops into the chair beside him and watches the video play; it’s fairly short, barely hitting eight minutes. At about six minutes in, Scott snorts. “Dude.”

“What?”

“You totally forgot to edit out this bit where you’re _moaning Derek’s name.”_

“I did not,” Stiles says indignantly.

Scott smirks at him, and plays back the video a bit. Stiles doesn’t hear anything and makes a face. Scott turns up the volume.

Sure enough, there’s Stiles on the couch, a breathy, “Derek,” escaping his lips.

“Fine, it happened, but it’s only because I’ve only been jerking off to him forever. It’s a habit, you know! It’s not like, I’m actively thinking about him, right there,” Stiles says.

“You’ve been jerking it to _Diamond_ forever,” Scott corrects. “I know, because I’ve edited some of your early videos and you used to moan that name a lot. This is the first time I’ve seen you say ‘Derek’, though.”

“And the last,” Stiles says. “It’s a fluke, it’s not gonna happen again.”

They finish watching the video.

It happens three more times.

 

* * *

 

“Thanks for coming in and helping us handle all of these applications again, Lydia,” Scott says gratefully.

“No problem at all,” Lydia says. “You guys would be totally lost without my input.” She hands Scott a fat folder.

“Is this the short list?” Stiles asks as Scott opens the folder carefully, flipping through the first few headshots and resumes, and then passes them one by one to Stiles. Stiles frowns, reading a few of lines of one application, and then another.

“Dude, none of these people answered my Star Wars question,” Stiles says.

“These are all the rejects,” Lydia says primly, ignoring Stiles’ statement. _“This_ is the short list.” She hands Scott a piece of paper.

“Lydia, this is a blank sheet of paper,” Scott says, staring at what Lydia just handed him.

“I know,” Lydia says, eyes glinting mischievously. “I actually just talked to the representative from _Hale House_ today and we both agreed that this would be an amazing option.” She hands Scott a single headshot and a resume and waits for a reaction. “Well, what do you think?”

Stiles tenses upon hearing _Hale House_. No way, they wouldn’t have… it’s a big studio though, it could be anyone.

“Derek Hale?” Scott says, looking over the photo. “I love it.”

Stiles’ jaw drops in disbelief. Scott smiles at him and hands him the photo and Derek’s application. Derek looks really different in his photos than any of his other promos Stiles has ever seen. It looks like he’s tried to match the lighting and photography style of _True Alpha Studios._  

He looks incredible.

[nsfw photo ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the first photo Derek’s wearing a fluffy looking knitted sweater that’s open to his hairy chest, holding a newspaper aloft with one hand, his thick cock hanging impressively between his hairy thighs. The entire [photo series](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com/post/64359751214/easy-like-a-sunday-morning) is black and white, soft and sleepy looking, intimate, like from a lover's gaze. The long line of Derek's back in bed, [Derek making his coffee naked](http://betabutt.tumblr.com/post/83797103143), Derek in the shower, Derek in a soft sweater, and the camera has panned out to reveal he’s only wearing the sweater, his ass looking glorious in the soft light.

“I think hiring Derek would be a great idea; we already picked up a lot of new subscribers after his and Stiles’ video, and I’m sure everyone would love to see them together again,” Scott says.

“Scott! Don’t you think this might be _unprofessional_ because, you know, we--”

“Slept together?” Lydia guesses.

“Yeah, we made that one video--”

“No, I mean you guys slept together,” Lydia says. “Off camera, and it’s freaking you out right now.”

“No it isn’t,” Stiles insists. Scott gives him a knowing look and Stiles sighs. “Look, okay, yeah, I don’t have a problem with working with Derek. He’s hot, I’m hot, I’m sure we’ll make great videos together. I just--”

“Stiles, you know we wouldn’t pick someone you wouldn’t get along with,” Scott says. “Look, he even answered your Star Wars thing. ‘My favorite is _The Empire Strikes Back_ ,’” Scott reads from Derek’s application. “See? He took all of your weird little statements things in that video seriously. This is like, an essay right here.”

Stiles grumbles, looking at the photos again. Alright, Derek does look really nice in these. Soft. Cuddle-able, even, if you were into that sort of thing. But Stiles isn’t, and that sweater is just nice soft-looking, okay, he’s not above noticing details. It’s just a cool marketing ploy to change Derek’s image more towards what _True Alpha Studios_ wants, and yeah, Stiles has to admit he likes this version of Derek more than the “ROCK HARD DIAMOND” that’s currently on the _Hale House_ website.

Scott hands Stiles what looks like three pages of neatly typed, double spaced 12-point font on Derek Hale’s opinions on Star Wars, comic books, and why DC should be filming a Wonder Woman movie.

If Stiles didn’t already know Derek he’d have loved this application and have been extremely enthusiastic about getting to make copious amounts of porn with the person that came with it. But as it is, Stiles hasn’t filmed with another person in about a year, and he’s never done the relationship-orientated marketing that they’ve developed since then. Stiles feels nervous about constantly being in close quarters with someone he’s going to be fucking-- repeatedly, too. He’s never done this before, not even in a real relationship. It’s always been fuckbuddies and one night stands, and oh no, what if Stiles gets attached--

“You don’t have to _actually_ date Derek, just pretend to and have sex with him on camera...a lot,” Scott says.

“Stiles, are you saying you are unable to be professional about this because of your previous… encounter and your current feelings towards Mr. Hale?” Lydia asks.

“I don’t have _feelings_ for Derek!” Stiles exclaims. Really, he didn’t. He wouldn’t deny that he would ride that dick into the sunset given the chance, but that’s sex, not feelings.

This is his job, though. Stiles can do this. “Please. I can be the most professional pornstar ever. I will be the best fake boyfriend to ever fake boyfriend, and we’ll make Jackson and Danny look super lame compared to how boyfriendly we are together.”

Lydia laughs brightly and looks at Scott. “Please, that isn’t a challenge. Jackson can’t look boyfriendly with anyone. At least Danny puts up with him for the studio.”

“It’s settled then, we’ll let Derek know right away that he got the job,” Scott says. “Lydia, did, um, anyone else from Hale House apply?”

Lydia eyes Scott, who adds “Just asking!” quickly. She smirks and reaches for the reject stack that Scott is holding, and yanks out the bottom file.

“Looking for this?” she asks, waving the application with Isaac’s photo on it at Scott. “Please, I already know you and Allison have started to cozy up to this particular cutie. He applied for the studio, yes, but something tells me it wasn’t out of interest for shooting with _Stiles,_ if you know what I mean.”

Stiles pretends to be scandalized by this, clutching his chest in mock horror as Scott takes the application and looking at it fondly.

Lydia purses her lips. “You should just ask him to come on over as well, you know. From what I hear he’s ready to jump ship.”

Scott blushes. “Oh, I don’t know. You don’t think it’s a little soon?”

Lydia shrugs. “We might as well poach all their talent. I’ve already hired Cora Hale to take over for PR for you once I start my defense, and then I’ll be too busy with academia stuff to do this for you guys anymore. I also have a feeling that studio’s going to crumble pretty soon after Cora and Derek both leave. I’ve made a list of actors who you might be interested in.” She hands Scott another list, looks at Scott and Stiles staring at her, dumbfoundedly. “My job here is done.”

Lydia walks out of the room, her heels clicking behind her and immaculate hair tresses bouncing as she goes.

Stiles looks back down at his lap at the photos of Derek, and Scott smirks at him. “I have digital copies of those already, so you can totally keep them if you want. Frame ‘em for your bedroom wall, you know. I won’t tell anyone if you scribble ‘Mr. Stiles Hale’ all over them, either.”

“Please, you know he’d be Derek Stilinski. Actually, Stilinski-Hale sounds good.” Stiles says automatically before realizing his mistake, and then Scott starts laughing, the bastard.

“Dude, you _have_ totally thought about it!” Scott says gleefully.

“Shut up, you’re the one caressing Curly’s face, and he’s fully clothed in that picture, at least I’ve got something to drool at,” Stiles says, bopping Scott on the head with the photos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed the link to all the rest of Derek's promo photos, I imagine them to look like [this.](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com/post/64359751214/easy-like-a-sunday-morning)


	6. Expectations vs Reality

“You look fine, Derek, stop fussing over a stupid shirt. Aren’t you going to be naked at some point anyway?” Cora asks as Derek throws a rejected shirt onto the floor.

“Yeah, but I want to make a good impression,” Derek says.

“We’re gonna be late,” Cora grumbles. “Why don’t I just drive your trailer so you can primp and preen on the way over to _True Alpha Studios-_ -”

“No!” Derek grabs the nearest shirt-- a blue henley-- and pulls it on. “I’ll be the only one with a fancy trailer, and it’ll look weird. I don’t want them to get the idea that I think I’m better than they are,” Derek says.

“Okay,” Cora says, amused. “I don’t know if the Camaro is a better option, if we’re trying not to be flashy,” she says, following Derek to his car.

“Good idea, we’ll take your rust bucket,” Derek says nervously.

“How dare you,” Cora says, mock-affronted.

Normally Derek would love to pick a stupid argument with her, especially over Cora’s beloved old Jeep Cherokee, but Derek is too caught up in his thoughts about making a good impression and what their new studio might think of the car they arrive in that he doesn’t even bother rising to Cora’s bait.

“Hey, are you okay?” Cora asks, touching his shoulder. “I was just joking, we can take the Camaro, it should be fine.”

Derek takes a deep breath. “I just-- they just have a really great mission statement, okay? And Scott McCall is on that list of _AWERE_ ’s Ethical Entrepreneurs, and you know it’s a small studio, and all of them started together right after college--”

“Aww, you’re nervous because you’re meeting all his friends,” Cora says in a singsong voice.

“Cora,” Derek warns, because now he’s _really_ nervous.

She doesn’t push the issue any further and makes the car decision for Derek anyways, walking over to the Camaro and waiting patiently by the passenger door.

Thankfully Cora is silent all the way to the studio, but it doesn’t stop her from sneaking Derek a few amused looks every now and then.

 _True Alpha Studios_ is a lot smaller than anywhere Derek’s ever worked before. It’s a quiet area mixed with small businesses and residences, just off a busier main road. There’s a Thai restaurant across the street and grocery store on the corner, and people going for their morning jog past the Starbucks next door. If Derek didn’t know any better, he’d say the modest-looking building could house any sort of regular business.

Cora marches right up to the door and presses the buzzer. A few seconds later it springs open. Derek immediately recognizes Scott McCall, who has a sunny expression on his face. “Hey! You must be Cora and Derek! Welcome, welcome. Come on in,” he says, pulling them both into a warm hug.

Derek pats Scott’s back awkwardly, and says what he rehearsed in the mirror that morning, taking extra care to make sure his jaw is relaxed and he isn’t giving off what Erica calls his murder face. It’s not Derek’s fault his resting face disarms people, but he really wants to come off as friendly and nice.

“I really admire the stance you’ve taken with _True Alpha Studios,”_ Derek says. “I thought that speech you gave at _AWERE’s_ spring fundraiser was really the catalyst we needed for the media to start changing the way werewolves are portrayed.”

Scott beams. “Thanks, man. I can tell you’re gonna fit right in. Cora, I can show you to the office where Lydia usually works out of, and Derek, you can hang out here. There’s bagels and coffee, help yourself. Stiles will be along in a minute.”

They disappear into a hallway, and Derek stares at the breakfast goods spread out neatly on a table. He’s debating between the onion bagel and the blueberry one (surely sweet would be better? Derek didn’t bring a toothbrush. What if he has to kiss Stiles later?) when he hears someone walk up behind him.

The scent hits Derek in a sudden wave, and Derek turns around slowly, quelling the urge to bury his face in Stiles’ neck to get more of it.

Stiles looks good, wearing a graphic tee and jeans, and then his lips quirk up in a smile.

Too late, Derek realizes, it’s the same smile he uses right before he normally licks his lips and then--

“Hi,” Stiles says.

“Hi,” Derek says back, grateful that Stiles isn’t a werewolf and can’t smell the whirlwind of emotions fluttering through him right now. Derek feels so stupid, standing here empty handed. He wants to woo this guy, right? Maybe he should have brought Stiles flowers. Or that mix CD he made. “Bagels look nice,” he says.

“Yeah, I told Danny to get Bueller’s, they’re awesome,” Stiles says, “The everything bagel is where it’s at,” he says, picking up one and separating it with his long fingers.

Derek’s mind is already skipping ahead, imagining Stiles with sleep-mussed hair after a date-turned-sleepover, teasing him with a simple motion of his fingers, a gesture just starting to border on erotic. Derek watches the Stiles in front of him repeat the same gesture for a few seconds before he turns away, embarrassed.

Stiles smears a generous amount of cream cheese on the bagel half, and holds it out to Derek. “You couldn’t decide, right? This one’s the best.” He smiles, spreads cream cheese on the other half and then licks the knife. Derek watches, transfixed, holding a bagel that Stiles had pressed into his hand, as Stiles practically inhales his bagel, cream cheese smearing all over his lips.

“Dude, you’re gonna eat that, right?” Stiles asks when he notices Derek hasn’t moved to eat his bagel. “Otherwise, I will. They never order enough everything bagels, even though nobody but Allison will eat the plain ones. Danny always orders the same amount of each type of bagel. I mean, I totally took an office poll and came up with the perfect bagel distribution but we always end up with a bunch of stale plain ones at the end of the week--”

“You’ve got something on your face,” Derek says, grabbing a napkin and stepping closer. If he doesn’t do something about it he’s going to be looking at Stiles’ lips the whole day, and smeared with white like that, Derek’s not going to be able to think of anything other than their first encounter.

Derek dabs the napkin on Stiles’ cheek, and Stiles goes still, watching him. He smells nervous and excited all at once, and standing close enough like this, it wouldn’t take much effort to just kiss him--

“Hey! Save me an everything bagel, Stiles--don’t eat ‘em all!” Scott is grinning at them from the hallway.

And the moment is gone.

Stiles steps back, grabbing a bagel and chucking it towards Scott, who catches it easily. “We wouldn’t have this problem if Danny would just buy more than _three_ of each kind,” Stiles says testily.

“Aw, he gave you half his favorite bagel,” Scott says, looking at the bagel in Derek’s hands approvingly. “I’m lucky if I get to eat one sometimes.”

“That was the _one_ time I denied you a bagel of your choice,” Stiles hisses, “And that was because you and Allison fucked in my set and broke my favorite couch, okay.”

“Was that between filming your fourth and fifth solo videos?” Derek asks.

Stiles turns to look at him, surprised. “Yeah, I think so. How’d you know?”

Derek can feel his face heat up, and he takes a bite of his bagel, waving his hands awkwardly. “I, uh, just noticed the couch changed, that’s all. The new couch has a better angle, though; when you turn around and do that thing with your ass it looks incredible.”

For a second Derek thinks he might have gone too far on his first day when Stiles bursts out into pleased laughter. “Alright, Mr. Diamond _Vista Ridge_ , please do tell me more about my _incredible_ ass.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles has no idea what he was worried about. This is awesome. Derek has this dry humor that he really likes, and he hasn’t mentioned their hookup at the party at all. Derek totally wins over Scott by talking about an article Scott had published in _Werewolf Advocate_ last spring, and he gets along well with Danny and even impresses Jackson. Allison thinks he’s adorable and they went off on a tangent together talking about something called “A Ring for Spring” that Stiles resolves to figure out later, and then she disappears to go film Jackson and Danny’s new video while Scott leads them to one of the “living room” sets.

They’re not doing a scene today, just filming a short that will introduce Derek to the website as “Derek,” basically rebranding him from his Diamond-era days and fitting him into the _True Alpha Studios_ naming theme.

Scott sets up the camera and says, “Alright guys, just go with what feels natural. If you wanna make out after my questions and look cozy, that would be great, but don’t get carried away.”

Stiles looks at Derek, who actually seems nervous about the whole thing. “You okay?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah, I’m um, really glad to be working with you,” Derek says, almost shyly, which throws Stiles for a complete loop.

Stiles turns to look at Scott, who smirks and raises one eyebrow as if to say, _You ready or do you guys wanna bond some more?_

Stiles rolls his eyes and waves his hands at Scott, silently telling him, _go on ahead, asshole,_ and Scott laughs. “Alright, guys, we’re on in five, four, three, two…”

The camera clicks on and Scott says brightly into the microphone. “Today’s a great day at _True Alpha Studios!_ We’re pleased to welcome Derek-- formerly known as Diamond Vista Ridge-- to our little family here. We’re happy to have you.”

“Happy to be here,” Derek says warmly to the camera. He throws an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and turns to smile at Stiles. Wow, Derek’s really got this acting thing down pat, this is by far the most adoring look Stiles has ever been on the receiving end of. Derek even reaches for Stiles’ hand hesitantly, and Stiles lets him squeeze it fondly. Stiles even squeezes back, just for show.

“Now, Derek, can you tell me a little bit about why you chose to film with _True Alpha Studios?”_

Derek looks at Stiles again, and his ears are a little pink, and then he says in an earnest voice, “After I met Stiles, I knew I couldn’t work with anyone else ever again. I think there are certain times in your life when you just know someone is special, and… Stiles is special. I just really wanted to date him, I guess, and that’s why I’m here.” He gives Stiles a shy, hesitant smile and then looks back at the camera, where Scott’s eyes are as big as saucers. Which is hysterical, because Stiles knows Scott was just talking to Derek before this scene about the questions they were gonna use, so it’s not like this answer is a surprise or anything.

Stiles is actually rather impressed with his new costar’s dedication to their fake-boyfriend angle and his acting skills, because Derek sounds really sincere about it. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he’d think this was a genuine confession.

Stiles isn’t sure what to do, he knows he should probably say something in kind, but he’s not really a good actor and doesn’t think he’d be able to pull off the sweet vibe Derek’s going for here. Stiles knows what he _is_ good at, though.

“Aw, babe,” Stiles says, hoping it’s cute enough to get him a pass on the feelings section of this video.

To change the tone, Stiles gets out of his seat to climb into Derek’s lap. He gives Derek a sloppy kiss that’s returned enthusiastically, Derek grabbing him around the waist and pulling him forward into a close embrace.

Derek’s mouth feels as good as Stiles remembers from that first video; he tastes a little bit like coffee today, and bagel, but it’s good, getting a little lost in a tangle of lips and tongue and--

“So we have a few more questions…”

Stiles flips Scott off and grinds into Derek’s lap. In the background Stiles is vaguely aware of Scott quickly skipping to the end narration about tuning into see the studio’s first Derek-and-Stiles video, and then the sound of the camera turning off and Scott leaving the room.  

Stiles can feel Derek getting hard underneath him, and bites at his lip, pleased at the moan Derek lets out when Stiles rocks his hips against Derek’s erection.

“Stiles, I--” Derek gasps, amused. “This wasn’t how I was envisioning our first date,” he says.

“Our what?” Stiles asks. “Er, Scott has that planned out, I think we’re supposed to go ice skating in the park or something, and then there’s some outdoor blowjobs planned and then we come back and fuck. Our ‘apartment’ set isn’t quite done yet, though so it’s not going to be until next week. That doesn’t mean we can’t get in lots of _practice_ , though,” Stiles says, licking his lips. He reaches for Derek’s zipper eagerly, but Derek grabs his wrist.

“Wait, Stiles,” Derek says, frowning a little.

Frowning. Why is he _frowning_ , he’s got Stiles in his lap and Stiles has his I-want-to-give-you-a-blowjob face on.

“I didn’t mean, like, our fake date to be filmed for the studio, I meant, like a real date. I wanna take you out. Sex is nice, but I’d like to get to know you, too,” he says gently, taking Stiles’ hand and bringing to his mouth, kissing it and looking up at Stiles hopefully through his dark lashes.

“I, uh-- did you just-- you want to date me. Is that right. You want to have...a _relationship._ With me,” Stiles says.

Derek nods.

Stiles scrambles off Derek and the couch, standing up in horror. The excited mindset of fooling around with someone he was attracted to is completely gone, and Derek is looking somewhat alarmed now; Stiles’ heartbeat and scent must be going haywire.

“I, um, yeah, I’m really sorry. I don’t do that? I mean, I’d still like to work with you and have sex with you and stuff, but, yeah don’t wanna get your hopes up or anything,” Stiles rambles, and already he can see Derek’s face falling. Shit. “I’m really sorry,” he says again. “I totally understand if you don’t wanna work here anymore, I mean, if you came all this way to just … date me… um… you should probably talk to Scott. Yeah. I’ll get him for you.”

And with that, Stiles ungracefully stumbles out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek sits on the couch, shell-shocked, staring at the wall. Sure, a rejection had crossed his mind, and he’d imagined Stiles might say something like “No thanks, not interested in you,” but it seemed unlikely coupled with the way Stiles had sought him out at the party, said “I can’t stop thinking about you,” and then fucked his brains out.

Was it just a sex thing? Was Stiles not interested in him beyond hooking up?

And then Stiles had said he’d understand if Derek didn’t want to work for _True Alpha Studios_ anymore.

Derek doesn’t want to quit, not on his first day, not at a studio whose message he agrees with, not where _Stiles_ is. Plus he can’t see himself going back to his uncle with his tail between his legs, he’d never live it down.

There’s a polite knock on the door. “Derek? It’s Scott.”

“Yeah, come in,” Derek says.

Scott walks into the room, a puzzled expression on his face. “So, I uh, just ran into Stiles in the hallway, who just kind of blurted at me that he fucked up and you probably want to quit now. Is everything okay?”

Scott sits on one of the armchairs across from Derek, looking at him calmly at eye-level, and Derek is just all the more certain that he wants to keep working here. He likes Scott’s leadership style. A lot.

“It’s not Stiles’ fault,” Derek says quickly.

Scott gives him a speculative look. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

Derek takes a deep breath before he begins. “Um, well we were kissing, and uh… we were going to…”

“Yeah, that’s why I left,” Scott says, amused. “Figured you guys would want a bit of privacy for your reunion.”

“I think I upset him when I told him I wanted to date him. Or like, save the sex for after the first date, I don’t know,” Derek admits. He looks down at his hands morosely.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Scott assures, putting a hand gently on Derek’s shoulder. “Look, I’ve known Stiles my whole life. And the whole relationship thing is a big deal with him, okay? It’s not you. Trust me, he likes you, in his own way. It’s just that asking him out like that probably scared him to pieces. Stiles hasn’t been in a relationship for like, ever.”

Derek nods, the initial sting of rejection fading. Now he just feels guilty for putting Stiles on the spot like that.

“Stiles said you wanted to quit, but you know, even if you don’t want to work with Stiles anymore, you still can have a place here. You can do solo videos, or I think we might be hiring some girls. Actually, Cora told me the pair she wanted to hire were together already, so probably not them. But in the future! We can find you a partner--”

“Stiles,” Derek says. “I can work with Stiles.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asks, but there’s a look of happy relief in his eyes even as he’s asking the question.

“Absolutely, it’s not going to be a problem,” Derek says sincerely.

“Alright, but you can always talk to me, okay? You’re part of the pack now, one of us,” Scott says, smiling.

“Okay,” Derek says. The way Scott says _pack_ makes him feel welcome, safe in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since Laura moved across the country to work on her law degree. It’s funny how in just a short day it feels natural for Derek to feel immediate loyalty and affection for Scott, something that Derek has never felt at all for his uncle, despite having worked for him for years.

“I’m going to talk to Stiles. Everything’s gonna be alright, Derek,” Scott says. “Here, I got you this welcome gift. It’s probably in bad taste, now that I think about what just happened, but uh, if you want…”

Scott is pulling something out of his pocket. It looks like a USB drive.

“What is it?”

Scott smiles mischievously. “Stiles’ newest solo video. Unedited.”

 


	7. Marshmallows and Mustaches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There have been minor edits to chapters 4 and 5, where I tweaked the story a bit so that they were not drunk during their hookup after the VC party. Stiles thinks he made up the knotting in his head, though, and that it was a weird fantasy of his.

The USB drive seems to burn a hole in Derek’s pocket for the rest of the day. Time passes by slowly; Danny gives Derek a tour of the studio, the handful of sets and the offices used for editing, post-production and everything else. There seem to be a few set roles, with Allison and Scott taking on the lion’s share of directing, Stiles and Danny handling most of the editing and post production, and Jackson taking care all the ads and financing. Aside from these and their expected on-camera duties, everyone also seems familiar with how to work a camera and is open to fulfilling any role needed (except for Jackson, who refuses to let anyone else handle the money. Scott says it’s fine, he’s terrible with a camera or the computers anyway.)

Derek, who’s never done anything on the other side of the camera for this particular job, is intimidated and excited all at once.

Allison gets Derek set up with a few cameras and teaches him the basics of the equipment, then runs him through a basic tutorial of their editing software on the computer. After about an hour she leaves him to practice editing together a simple video. There’s lots of raw footage on the footage he can work with, and Allison’s instructions basically were not to delete any of their current files and to make sure he saves his work in a separate labeled folder.

Derek browses through the videos available, looking at the file names; everything is neatly labeled with the names of the couple (or just _Stiles--Solo_ ) and the date recorded. Derek keeps scrolling past all the videos dated from this year and then sees the names start to deviate from the couple pattern, with the titles _Scott and Stiles,_ and _Scott, Allison and Stiles, Stiles and Danny, Stiles and Jackson, Stiles and Allison,_ and _Stiles, Jackson, and Danny_ mixed in with all the other combinations.

 _Stiles and Danny_ seems to be the most common for who Stiles seemed to be paired up with. Apparently last year in the month of March, Stiles filmed eighteen videos with him.

Derek’s mouth goes a little dry. Something heavy and sour churns in his stomach, a strange sensation that Derek’s never felt before. It shouldn’t matter, not really, he’s seen costars star in films with other people before. This is different, though. Derek counts the titles, thinking about the tanned pleasant man he met earlier who gave him a coffee and walked him around the studio. That Danny was the same Danny who fucked Stiles eighteen times in March, and fifteen times in May, and…

“Hey, how’s everything working out? Questions so far?” Allison asks, looking over his shoulder. “Mm, you should probably pick some recent footage, after we bought new lenses for all our cameras everything looked a lot better.”

“Yeah, I was just...getting familiar with what you have,” Derek says, quickly trying to scroll back down to the new footage but accidentally scrolls the wrong way, and then the screen is still full of _Stiles and_ videos.

Allison chuckles. “It’s totally fine, I get you’re curious. We don’t have any of the Stiles paired with other people on the site anymore since we launched the couple branding, but you’re probably interested in seeing what kind of moves he’s got, right?”

“Something like that,” Derek says awkwardly. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Allison pats his arm gently. “It’s fine, I get it. It was a long time ago, Derek.”

“I know, I don’t have the right to be…” _jealous_ is the word Derek should be using, but he can’t bring himself to admit it.

“You know, you don’t have to learn this stuff right away. Why don’t you go home early, call it a day,” Allison suggests. “We don’t have anything else scheduled for you other than ‘Welcome Derek, film short with Derek and Stiles, and Derek gets a tour and maybe learns some stuff.’ You’ve done all of that already.”

“Thanks, but I can’t,” Derek says. “I drove here with Cora. We live together, I’m not about to leave my baby sister to take the bus or something because I couldn’t handle hanging out for a few more hours.”

“That’s sweet,” Allison says. “I also know she’s totally gotten settled into Lydia’s office and is currently fighting with her on the phone about her filing system, so she’s probably going to be awhile.”

“I could stand to learn to edit things,” Derek says.

Allison hums behind him, and then takes the mouse. She scrolls through the list of footage quickly back to more current titles, and then selects a few and opens them up in the program. Derek is greeted with the sight of Stiles barely starting to saunter into the frame.

“Alright, this is a good one. Why don’t you try and make like, a highlights reel or something. Like a ‘Best of Stiles’ Butt’ from these three videos,” Allison suggests.

“Okay,” Derek agrees. It’s a nice place to start, especially since he was floundering with the open “make something” instruction.

Allison smiles, and gets up to leave. At the door, she turns around, as if in afterthought. “Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Watch the video Scott gave you.”

She winks, and then shuts the door behind her.

Derek absentmindedly touches the drive in his pocket, and then brings his attention back to the screen. He can do this. He’s working, he can concentrate…

On Stiles’ butt.

Yeah, this is going to go great for Derek attempting to distract himself from...Stiles. While working on a project all _about_ Stiles.

Derek sighs and tries to do the work anyways.

It doesn’t take long for Derek to find all the clips he wants to use, and he has the frames loaded, and he’s attempting to remember how to cut a particular clip down to a few seconds, trying to concentrate and not think about his cock, hard against his thigh, aching for attention. Derek has tried to be professional about it, watch the videos objectively, but it’s _Stiles._ Stiles licking his lips, Stiles turning around, spreading his cheeks, Stiles teasing a finger into himself.

Now Derek doesn’t remember which menu does what at all. He can’t think. He really should focus on finishing his current project, though.

The USB drive is still in his pocket. And both Scott and Allison had told him to watch it. Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing to do it _now,_ right? Or was it the kind of present Scott had given him because he knew Derek would want to jerk to it later in the privacy of his own home?

Derek pulls out the drive and plugs it into the computer. It would probably be better just to watch it now rather than be tempted by it for the rest of the day.

The one file loads easily, and it’s just as sexy as all the other solo videos Derek has seen of Stiles. Derek watches the entire video, giving into the need, unzipping himself and stroking his cock as he watches Stiles touch himself, falling back against the couch, stroking himself, gasping with pleasure.  Derek is getting close just watching Stiles bring himself off. He’s almost there, face flushed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. He looks absolutely beautiful like this, just about to come.

Stiles opens his mouth, and Derek is expecting to hear the usual “babe,” but instead Stiles says, breathlessly, barely audible but clear to Derek’s werewolf ears: “Yeah, _Derek.”_

Derek’s cock twitches, and he rewinds the video just to make sure.

Yeah, that’s definitely Stiles, moaning his name.

Derek watches the scene in a state of aroused disbelief, watching Stiles fuck himself on his fingers, closing his eyes and crying out in pleasure. He calls out Derek’s name softly a few more times, and he does it again when he comes, spilling all over himself.

Derek hadn’t realized he was stroking himself so intently, listening to his name fall out Stiles’ mouth so desperately, and that he barely recognizes that feeling again, too hard, skin too tight, cock aching and sensitive. He ruts against his hand, wanting more, and then gasps when he touches something unfamiliar.

Derek looks down at himself and stares at the knot swollen at the base of his cock, red and angry looking.

“What the fuck,” Derek states to the empty room.

This is it, he’s cracked, he’s talking to his dick. A dick that apparently doesn’t know what it’s doing, because Stiles isn’t even _here_ right now. Why is his body reacting like this?

There isn’t enough blood in Derek’s brain to think, all he knows is that touching the knot feels impossibly good, but he can’t seem to get his hand tight enough around it. It’s close enough, though, warm enough to mimic a body, and Derek remembers how good Stiles’ mouth had felt on it.

The orgasm surges through him like a wave, and Derek is astounded at how much come spurts all over his fist and chest. And it just keeps going. Had he come that much that night? Probably. The memory is hazy, but Derek recalls with vividness the feeling of Stiles’ hand holding his tightly, the feel of his lips on the back of his neck as Stiles rocked into him. And then Stiles licking at his knot in awe, taking all of Derek into his mouth.

Derek is _still_ coming, knotted tight up in his fist, thinking about the velvety wet heat of Stiles’ mouth, how it might feel to be inside him somewhere _else,_ and he comes and comes until his cock is spent.

The knot doesn’t go down for another thirty humiliating minutes in which Derek is covered in his come, too afraid to leave the room in his state to go try and clean up in the bathroom. The knot finally recedes and Derek is able to zip himself back into his pants. He settles for taking off his shirt and wiping himself off with it.

He looks somewhat decent, if shirtless, so when Scott comes back into the room to check on him, Derek mumbles something about the air conditioner not working and feeling stuffy, even though Scott can probably smell exactly what he’s just done.

Derek isn’t expecting Scott to open a drawer and produce a large pump bottle of lube and tissues, placing them on the desk. “Don’t worry about it,” Scott says, and Derek can smell the amusement wafting off of him. “Stiles jacks off all the time when he edits, it’s not a big deal. We’ve all done it.”

“I really like him,” Derek blurts out suddenly. He doesn’t know what compels him to say it, but he implicitly trusts Scott already.

“Good,” Scott says, smiling.

Derek waits, but there isn’t a ‘but’ or any sort of continuation.

Scott must hear the uptick in his heartbeat because he chuckles a little. “I’m not gonna tell you to not break his heart or anything, okay. I trust you.”

 

* * *

 

 

On Tuesday, Stiles is surprised to see that Derek hasn’t actually quit. He’s standing in the main office, nodding intently at Allison explaining the huge whiteboard with their calendar and the “to do” list color coded by name responsible next to it.

Stiles walks up to the board and writes down his name next to “Edit new Jackson/Danny,” the marker squeaking loudly as he goes.

“Good morning,” Allison says, all sunshine and positivity. “Derek’s really getting the hang of editing. Yesterday he just started to make what I’m sure will be a great highlights reel of your butt,” she says.

“Oh. Nice,” Stiles says, trying and failing for casual.

Allison’s lips quirk up in a smile. “I’m gonna go help Scott with the brainstorming for his pirate epic. Derek, just knock on our office door whenever you’re ready and I can look it over before we upload it to the site.” She sips delicately at her coffee before walking out the door.

Stiles realizes he’s got the cap of the marker in his mouth, something he automatically does with pens and highlighters and markers, but self-consciously drops the cap from his lips, hoping Derek doesn’t think Stiles is intentionally being a tease-- that would be really rude. Stiles caps the marker and puts it back in the little tray, feeling terrible.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out just as Derek says the same thing.

“No, wait,” Stiles says. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, man, I’m the one who basically like, rejected you and then ran away like a jerk. I’m really surprised you still wanna work here and see my jerkface all the time. And like, uh, jerk it with me? Um...I mean...”

“It’s okay,” Derek says, tilting his head a little, regarding Stiles. “I mean, I thought about it, and I figured it was probably unfair of me to project these, er, fantasies I had about this-- this idea of you, I guess. I was really swept away by that and the combination of that impression and then actually having the real you, I just really wanted--” Derek sighs a little and then takes a deep breath. “Just-- can we forget about that and start over?  I would really like to get to know you.”

Stiles blinks, and he realizes while Derek was talking that Derek is wearing the same thick knitted cable sweater in that promo photo that came with his application for _True Alpha Studios._ It’s obviously not a prop or something that the photographer told him to wear, because it looks like it’s _Derek’s actual sweater,_ soft and warm looking, wrapped around him like a hug. Stiles knows Derek is talking, and the Derek’s holding eye contact with his voice serious and gentle at the same time, and… oh. Okay, Derek’s finished now.

That sweater looks _really_ soft, okay. Derek looks nice in it. It’s not Stiles’ fault he gets distracted by things.

Stiles should say something right now, like _Don’t get your hopes up_ or _I’ve never done the whole relationship thing with anyone and I don’t plan to_ but Derek is just waiting earnestly for a response in that damn sweater of his and Stiles can’t bring himself to be that cruel right now.

“Um, okay. We can do that,” Stiles says, and Derek’s face lights up. “I mean, like as friends. You know. Because we work together. Pretending to be boyfriends. Who fuck on camera. But we can totally uh, get to know each other,” he says, gesturing wildly.

Derek smiles. “Great. Uh, how do you like your coffee?” he asks.

It’s a start.

 

* * *

 

Since then Stiles hasn’t talked to Derek much, and Derek keeps to himself, mostly working learning the editing process, and Stiles occasionally sees him in around the studio where Derek might wave or saying hello but doesn’t seem to want to pursue a conversation or anything else.

It’s not like Stiles had been dreading that Derek would show up with a dozen red roses and start spouting poetry exactly, but he’d been expecting...something? Like what kind of guy makes a point of declaring that he wants to get to know Stiles, and then _doesn’t?_

Scott laughs when Stiles is complaining to him over beer that night, Scott scribbling notes on a first draft of his pirate epic script. “Wait, let me get this right-- you’re freaking out because he _hasn’t_ done anything? Didn’t you tell him you wanted to go slow or something? Did you think maybe he’s taking that into account?”

“I did not say that,” Stiles says testily. “I was trying to let him down easy, but he just looked so fucking cute in his stupid sweater I got all messed up and was like ‘okay.’ I’m not even sure what I said ‘okay’ to! Like. He wants to get to know me, but he’s barely said two words to me since then!”

Scott starts chuckling.

“I’m serious, Scotty! Like I don’t know what to do!”

“I don’t think you have to do anything,” Scott muses. “Derek obviously is waiting for you to make the first move.”

“Well, I’m sucking his dick on Friday, does that count?”

Scott chucks the pen at him. “Please, that’s for work.”

 

* * *

 

On Thursday Stiles finishes his last editing project and heads over to Scott’s office, only to find a sign that says _brainstorming in the rec room-- PIRATES!!!!_

Stiles grins and makes his way down the hallway. He can hear raucous laughter and talking inside, and there’s some sort of cheesy romantic music coming from the room. Scott must be trying to get a feel for what kind of music he wants for the movie, playing a possible soundtrack over some porn to see if it fits.

The projector is on, but it’s not one of the pirate-themed porn films Stiles had helped Scott pick out to watch over for inspiration. It’s where the swelling music is coming from, actually, where a man with a rakish pirate hat is smiling coyly at a blushing sailor.

“Derek, this popcorn is _so_ good,” Allison says from the couch, curled up with Scott. Danny and Cora are sitting on the other couch, and Jackson is sprawled out on the recliner. Everyone seems to have a bowl of this-- this popcorn, and Stiles sees a few empty tins next to the trashcan with a fancy label. Gourmet popcorn, what even? Caramel doesn’t belong on popcorn, that’s ridiculous.

Even Jackson is happily munching away, eyes glued to the screen as the pirate sweeps the sailor off his feet. The music reaches a crescendo, and Scott sighs with appreciation as the happy couple embrace in a passionate kiss.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek says, smiling at him and handing him a bowl. “Saved you a bowl. This is my favorite popcorn brand, I thought everyone might like to try it.”

“Uh, thanks,” Stiles says, looking at his bowl of...chocolate covered popcorn. With caramel drizzles and almond chunks. He scrunches his face at the screen, not recognizing the movie. He’s pretty sure this isn’t one of the porn films he helped Scott pick out, because it looks like the two male leads currently on screen are finishing their kiss with… dancing on their ship while the sun sets, and the credits start rolling instead of clothes coming off.   

“What’s going on?” Stiles asks.

“Oh, Derek had some suggestions for pirate-themed movies that would be great for inspiration, so we’re having a marathon!” Scott says excitedly. “This one was really good, thanks, Derek! I really liked what they did with the costumes in this one.”

“You would look really good in that hat,” Allison muses, and Scott laughs and kisses her cheek fondly.

“Dude, no, I would rock the hat,” Jackson declares. “Scott, you’re casting me as the suave debonair pirate, right?”

“Please,” Danny scoffs. “You’re going to be the one in the puffy white wig. Your face has rich douchebag written all over it.”

“Mmm, my features _are_ quite classical,” Jackson muses while everyone laughs.

Another movie is about to start. “Oh! Hot chocolate would be really great with the popcorn,” Derek says. “I also brought this great cocoa mix.”

“I am so happy you decided to join us,” Allison says sleepily, snuggling into Scott.

“I hope you guys like the hot chocolate,” Derek says, stepping towards the back of the room to the kitchenette.

“Do you need help?” Stiles asks, wanting to get this show on the road. There’s another movie starting up behind them, and wait, is that a _Hallmark_ logo?

“Oh, sure, thank you,” Derek says.

Out of a grocery bag from the fancy organic market across town, Derek pulls out a box of fancy-label cocoa along with a bag of fluffy looking marshmallows. Stiles watches him open the tin of cocoa and inhale the scent, a dopey smile crossing his face.

It’s fucking adorable.

Stiles turns away and starts grabbing mugs out of the cupboard, counting them out on the counter. He then rips open the bag of marshmallows and starts plopping a few of them in each mug, and then takes two to the sink to fill with hot water from the tap. That’s the primary ingredient, right? Cocoa mix and water?

Derek grabs his wrist immediately. “What are you doing!?” he asks, shocked.

“Uh...helping you make hot chocolate?”

“Not with _water_!” Derek says, looking offended. “I’ve already got milk heating up on the stove. And why did you put the marshmallows in first? They’ll get all soggy and sad, so you always put the marshmallows in _last._ Happy marshmallows, not sad marshmallows. _”_

“Okay, okay,” Stiles says, putting his hands up. He backs up a step and watches Derek hustle about, stirring in the cocoa powder and also a number of spices -- cinnamon, nutmeg-- and wait, is Derek cutting up a vanilla bean right now?

“Stir,” Derek commands, and Stiles’ stomach flutters a bit. He takes the ladle and stirs the chocolate mixture in the pot, paying attention to Derek’s directions (three stirs counterclockwise, and one stir clockwise-- he feels like he’s in Potions class or something), but Stiles does have to admit, the chocolate smells incredible.

Derek’s removed all the marshmallows from the cups and then rolls up his shirtsleeves, revealing his hairy muscular forearms, and then picks up the entire hot pot with his bare hands and starts pouring chocolate into all the mugs.

While the mugs are steaming, Derek delicately plops exactly three fat marshmallows in each one, giving them each a quick little stir, and then starts handing them out to everyone, smiling at every “Aw thanks, Derek!” and “Wow, this looks great!”

Derek has dimples, Stiles realizes.

Derek scrapes a bit of vanilla bean inside the last cup, shakes a bit more cinnamon in it, adds an extra marshmallow and then offers it to Stiles. “Here, this one is for you,” Derek says.

Stiles holds the cup in both his hands, and the warmth seeps through his skin and Stiles can feel his body flushing with heat. It’s just hot chocolate, it’s not like--

Stiles takes a sip.

It’s incredible-- rich and creamy, the chocolate decadent on his tongue with the spices enhancing the flavor, and not at all like anything like Stiles has ever had before, and then the marshmallow practically melts on his tongue, and Stiles just moans in appreciation.

Derek is watching him with interest, his nostrils flaring, and Stiles should probably say something-- and a million questions spring to mind at once, like does Derek like to cook a lot, and how long has he been making hot chocolate like this, and--

“Guys, the movie’s about to start!”

There’s only one more recliner left, and clearly Derek was sitting there earlier, judging by the fluffy sweater draped over the back. Derek coughs and offers the seat to him, but Stiles just shakes his head.

“I can take the floor, it’s fine,” Stiles says. “You were sitting there, you should have the chair.”

He knows everyone is watching in amusement, and then Danny mutters something that has all the wolves laughing and Derek blushing.

Stiles ignores all of them, grabbing a fluffy seat cushion from Scott’s couch and then sits cross-leggedly on the floor, cradling his hot chocolate and munching on the popcorn from his bowl. It’s a good combination, he decides; the salty-sweet of the chocolate covered popcorn and the crunch of the almonds and his hot drink make for one of the best movie snacks he’s had.

The movie is really cheesy. It should be awful, but it kind of isn’t in that way that terrible movies can be so bad that they’re good. Stiles can hear Derek chuckling behind them as they watch the heroine demand the pirate to help her find her kidnapped lover, and the everyone else hurling popcorn at the screen whenever something ridiculous happens. It’s actually a lot of fun, just a silly B-rated adventure-romance movie filled with swashbuckling and cleavage and rippling abs. At the end when the heroine sails off into the sunset with both her lovers, Allison nudges Scott and they both share a look.

“You chose this one on purpose, didn’t you,” Stiles mutters, leaning his head back. He’s not sure at what point in the movie he settled between Derek’s legs, but he was aiming to get comfortable and lean against the recliner, and Derek is… comfortable.

“Thought they’d get a kick out of it,” Derek says quietly. “Hallmark’s only made three movies with a triad, and this one had pirates, so I thought Scott would like it.”

Stiles laughs and pats Derek’s thigh in approval. “You did good,” he says. “And this chocolate and popcorn isn’t bad either.”

Derek smiles back, and Stiles finds himself inadvertently lost in his eyes for a good few seconds. It’s not a thing, he’s just trying to figure out what color eyes Derek has, weren’t they green? Right now they’re kind of blue flecked with brown and gold, and maybe there’s some green, but seriously it’s like a little galaxy of--

“Alright, that was the last movie. Thank you, Derek!” Scott says, and Stiles coughs, looking away.

He turns back to the screen, which is now reflecting the desktop screen of the laptop Scott is fiddling with. “Okay, what’s next?” Jackson calls out, and Danny chucks a piece of popcorn at him.

“Okay, so to welcome Derek to the team-- and Cora, too, but this video is for our, ah, on-camera folks--” Scott says.

Cora laughs. “No problem, Allison already showed me the thing, and I wholeheartedly approve,” she says, giving Allison a knowing look and then bursting into giggles.

Allison sneaks a glance at Derek and then back at Cora and they both start laughing.

“Shush,” Scott says, grinning. “Okay, Derek, I heard from a little bird that you were nervous about working with all of us, and trust me, we’re not as cool as you think we are. So to prove that-- uh, I present you the best of all of our bloopers.”

He clicks on a file, turns it fullscreen, and the video starts playing.

It starts with Scott, winking at the camera, in front of a four-poster bed draped with a fine curtain. There are candles flickering romantically on the bed, and Scott backs up into it, still facing the camera, taking off his shirt. The shirt lands on one of the candles, which promptly catches fire.

Scott on the couch watches the Scott on the screen, laughing with everyone in the room as they watch Scott try desperately to put out the flames until Allison opens the door, walking into the room, jaw dropping in surprise.

It cuts to another video of Danny, wearing a tight looking Speedo, shaking his ass at the screen, then turning around and hooking his thumbs into the swimsuit, only to start laughing. “I can’t get it off,” Danny says, pulling on the tight material. “Oh my God, I really can’t,” he says, and there’s laughing from behind the camera. Jackson walks into the frame, getting on his knees and trying to tug off the Speedo, yanking hard, until the swimsuit tears at the back and springs around, smacking Jackson in the face.

Everyone is hooting with laughter, pelting Danny and Jackson with popcorn until Jackson gets up and takes a bow.

“What?” Jackson says, when the laughter continues.

Stiles can’t breathe, this is so funny. He actually is responsible for this video; he forgot and left a camera on in one of the sets, and apparently Jackson had come in and done his “pregame” before his own shoot.

It’s a [stupid dance routine](http://rydeforyou.tumblr.com/post/101387196763), that explains, so, so much about why Jackson asks to be paid in cash every so often.

Behind him, Stiles can hear Derek quaking with laughter. Stiles sneaks a look-- he definitely looks a lot relaxed now. Good job, Scotty. This was a good idea. Although Stiles is wondering what Scott decided to put in the video for him. Would it be the time he accidentally jizzed on the camera lens? What about the time he came so hard during a solo he fell asleep and the camera recorded Stiles drooling for three hours?

Stiles is trying to think while the video cuts to Allison laying on her stomach, focused on a Sudoku puzzle, Scott behind her. “Ally, are you seriously working on a puzzle right now?”

“Yep, if I finish this one then I’ll have a hundred finished at the expert level,” Allison says, scratching at the puzzle book with her pencil.

Scott nuzzles into her neck, kissing her ear. “Just turn off the camera and we can have cuddle time,” he says.

“Plenty of time for cuddles,” Allison says. “Now is time for puzzles.”

Scott flops onto Allison’s back. “Can you reach the camera? We’re gonna waste battery.”

Allison snorts. “Your werewolf dick is keeping me here for the next thirty minutes or so. I’m gonna say nope.”

“Cuddles.”

“Mmhm,” Allison says, reaching a hand idly to scratch at Scott’s head, and continuing to work on her puzzle.

“Hey, this isn’t a funny blooper,” Jackson complains.

“Of course it is,” Scott says. “It’s funny that Allison wanted to work on her puzzles while I was--”

Danny chucks a pillow at Scott’s head. “Alright, Couple of The Year, please tell me you have something really silly for Stiles’ blooper. Oh, what about the time he jizzed all over my brand new camera lenses?”

“Hey,” Stiles protests. “I wasn’t sure how good the zoom was, I just wanted to give you guys that closeup, you know?”

“We all know,” Allison says, giggling. “It’s the best, okay, just watch.”

“Yours was the best,” Scott grumbles to Allison, who kisses him fondly in appreciation.

Stiles immediately recognizes this video, standing up, his bowl of popcorn tumbling to the floor. “Alright, nothing to see here,” he says, turning slightly red and standing in front of the screen.

“What, you look great,” Danny says, waggling his eyes at the screen. “Sit your ass down, I wanna know why you hate our bathroom set.”

Stiles is pelted with popcorn until he sits back down. Derek doesn’t participate, although Stiles is pretty sure it’s because he loves his popcorn. It’s his favorite, right?

 

[nsfw photo ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The video Stiles is laying in a bathtub, ass half-submerged in the water, looking over his back at the camera. The still image itself is great, and Stiles knows its been used on the site for promos and it’s in his gallery and stuff, but this video has never seen the light of day, for proper reason.

Derek is _blushing._ What even. He doesn’t have anything to be embarrassed about, it’s Stiles about to be publicly humiliated in front of everyone. Although he’s pretty sure both Scott and Allison have seen this already, but _still._

Derek watches the Stiles on screen ruffle his hair and then cast a smouldering look at the camera and then slowly turn over, running his hands down the length of his body. It’s all sexy and fine until he stands up, presumably to grab the dildo at the end of the tub, but Stiles slips, falling backward into the splashing water, cursing wildly as he goes.

“Fuck! Don’t stop filming, Scott! I got this, I so got this,” the Stiles in the video says, flipping off the camera, and there’s muffled laughter behind it. Stiles tries to get up again, but a bar of soap has ended up in the water from the first fall, and he ends up slipping on it as he tries to stand up. Flailing about for something to grab onto, Stiles ends up grabbing the spigot and turning the shower on, and water starts streaming into the tub.

“Cold _cold_ cold!” Stiles shrieks, grabbing his chest.

Everyone in the room is laughing hysterically. Jackson even looks like he’s shedding a few tears of mirth.

“Okay, you saw, I’m not the most graceful person,” Stiles says, face aflame.

“Aw, it’s okay, I saved the best for last,” Scott says. “In honor of our newest actor…” and he proceeds to drumroll a beat onto his thigh.

The video cuts to an empty living room set. It’s colored strangely, and for a second Stiles thinks there’s something wrong with the video feed to make the entire rug look alarmingly orange until the door opens and Derek walks in, wearing a white tank top and a pair of jeans with a toolbelt, holding a plunger aloft over his shoulder.

“I heard you needed a plumber,” he says on the screen, twirling his mustache.

His _mustache._

The room erupts into hearty peals of laughter.

Danny has completely lost it, having fallen off the couch and is still laughing, body shaking on the floor. Jackson is wheezing into his popcorn bowl, Cora is graciously accepting a high five from Allison, and Scott is grinning, twirling his own mustache in question.

They end up turning off the video because everyone is having way too much fun making fun of Derek’s old mustache.

“Wait wait, Derek, I _mustache_ you a question,” Allison says. “Never mind, I’ll shave it for later.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe they had you be a plumber and you had a mustache but there weren’t any Mario jokes,” Danny says.

“Was this like, a remake of a cheesy 70’s porn?” Jackson asks.

“No, it was my own mustache,” Derek answers, and he rolls his eyes at Cora. “Cora and I went backpacking together in South America and when I got back, Uncle Peter had this idea for this video while I was shaving. Hence the mustache.” He throws a piece of popcorn at Cora. “Can’t believe you told them about it,” he says, shaking his head in fond disbelief.

“How could I not? My new boss asks me if I know of any embarrassing photos or videos of my brother, I just had to comply,” Cora says, smirking.

Derek tosses another handful in her direction.

“It’s like it’s an alive thing on your face,” Jackson says.

“Total 70’s pornstache,” Allison muses. “At least you’re in the right business. It totally works for that themed video, though. I can see it.”

“No way,” Cora says, shaking her head. “This was like, way worse than the full on mountain man beard he was sporting in Bolivia, okay. He just looks so weird.”

“I bet your costar didn’t appreciate it,” Danny says, touching his own lips and making a face. “Oh gosh, I bet it tickled.”

“I’d still hit it,” Stiles announces loudly. “In fact, I have seen this before already, and jerked it quite a few times to this very video back when we were all still living together in that house on Kelton Street.”

Scott gasps suddenly. “Was _this_ video the reason our shower drain broke?”

“Yep,” Stiles says proudly. “What can I say, I do generate a nice healthy amount of--”

“STILES!”

The conversation quickly turns away from Derek’s mustache to Stiles’ masturbation habits, and then to reminiscing stories about living together.

Allison is in the middle of talking about how Jackson’s snoring could be heard all the way across the entire house. Stiles relaxes, happily content to munch on popcorn. He turns around to see if anyone would notice if he just grabbed the bag of marshmallows to eat directly from it, and he catches Derek’s eye.

‘Thank you,’ Derek mouths silently.

‘You’re welcome,’ Stiles mouths back. He wants to say something more, but isn’t sure what, and it sure as hell isn’t something he wants to say in a room filled with all his friends. Instead, he grabs the laptop where Scott has forgotten it in favor about talking about pirate costumes now, but also spaceships-- wait, nope, it’s space pirates. Which would also be awesome.

Stiles finds Netflix and puts on _The Dark Knight,_ leaning back against the recliner where he was earlier. The movie starts to play, and everyone is still talking, but whatever. Stiles has seen it before and they don’t use the projector that often, so might as well.

Derek nudges him with his knee, and Stiles knocks his head back against it playfully, getting comfortable to watch the movie. It’s not weird at all that he’s sitting between his legs, okay, it’s just where Stiles was sitting earlier, and it’s not like there’s anywhere else to sit, like Derek’s lap or anything--

Stiles shakes the thought off and watches the movie. At about halfway through Stiles is sleepily watching, half leaning against Derek’s thigh. It’s not a thing, he’s just a pillow. Soft. Comfortable. And hey-- Derek’s stroking his hair.

“Oh, sorry,” Derek says softly, pulling his hand away after the first touch. “Uh, you just looked comfortable, and I--”

“S’fine,” Stiles says. “Feels nice.”

Derek’s hand comes back, carding through his hair, and Stiles feels sleepy and relaxed and happy.

“Aw, cozy,” Scott says. “You guys ready for your first video tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Stiles says, and he sees Derek nodding. There’s nothing to be nervous about. “This is gonna be the best fake date in the history of fake dates,” he says.

“Please,” Jackson says. “Okay so the hair petting thing is cute, but you have to really sell it. Like take me and Danny for example, okay? No one can tell this level of fake-boyfriendly is fake, like c’mon, look at this.”

Jackson stands up and walks over to Danny, pulling him off the couch and then dipping him in a dramatic swoop and kissing him soundly. He sets Danny back on the couch and grins proudly at everyone.

“As always, too much tongue, Jackson, I thought we talked about this,” Danny says, making a face.

“Well?” Jackson asks, raising an eyebrow.

Stiles tilts his head backwards against the recliner to look at Derek upside down. “We don’t have to, Jackson’s just being an ass,” he says.

“It’s okay,” Derek says. “Besides, I’m sure we can be just as convincing.” He pauses, and then adds, “If not more so,” in a challenging tone, causing the room to erupt in “oohs” and giggles.

Derek leans forward kisses Stiles, cupping the sides of his head gently with his hands. The angle is so different and strange, Stiles has barely enough time to think about his first upside down kiss when he’s overwhelmed by the soft, warm touch of Derek’s mouth to his. Derek tastes like chocolate, except better, and his lips parts open just enough for his tongue to tease at Stiles’ lips, questioning.

The kiss is over in a second, and Derek pulls back, falling back into his seat, grinning at everyone in the room.

Stiles is more than a little stunned and can’t bring himself to move. His lips feel like they’re tingling, and he feels warm all of sudden, all the way to his toes, and he can’t think about anything except wanting more.

It hits him suddenly, what this is, and the fact that Stiles liked it-- not just the kissing bit, but the touching and just hanging out-- and it wasn’t even a-- ugh, whatever, Stiles knows what this is, and it scares the hell out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed it, the link for Jackson's dance routine goes to a gifset of [Asher Millstone dancing](http://rydeforyou.tumblr.com/post/101387196763) from the show How to Get Away With Murder. I know he looks nothing like Jackson, but please just imagine Jackson doing that dance with the money toss and everything. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't had the pleasure of seeing Tyler Hoechlin with a 70's porn mustache, please click [here](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/102752720775/rustypolished-howlercon-previews-round-3) to marvel at his face. 
> 
> EDIT: INCREDIBLE [FANART OF THE KISS](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/103306028330/miathewolfanddarkthings-from-bleep0bleep-fic) drawn by Megan!!!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has kudo'd, subscribed and commented so far! It means a lot to me, thank you all so much.


	8. Icebreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Had extra work shift today, and chapter wasn't quite done, but I got home and powered through! It's still Monday in my time zone. Hopefully you'll enjoy! \\(^_^)/
> 
> As usual, thank you to [Jay](http://sourwolfandsarcasm.tumblr.com) for beta reading, and also to [fauvistfly](http://fauvistfly.tumblr.com) for a readthrough as well!

The ice skating rink is set up in the middle of the park, and aside from a few curious onlookers walking by, the area is empty. Strange for the middle of the day during the beginning of the holiday season, but it’s still early. Derek wonders how much it cost for Scott to book the entire rink just for this one video.

A slight wind rustles across the empty rink, bright against the afternoon sun, and a few wisps of powder circle around the ice.

Scott, Allison, and Danny all get their cameras at the ready to catch multiple angles. It’s barely November, and the mild California weather isn’t quite cold enough to warrant the thick winter clothing that Scott insisted Stiles wear for the date. It should be ridiculous but it’s all kinds of adorable, especially coupled with the grimace and the constant cursing.

Stiles is wearing a knitted blue beanie, and there are cute tufts of brown hair sticking out of it. He’s frowning as they walk up to the rink, his puffy jacket swishing with every step he takes.

“How come Derek doesn’t have to look like the abominable snowman?” Stiles asks, waving his mitten-encased hands at Scott.

Scott tsks. “Authenticity,” he says. “Werewolves have a natural higher body temperature, and you know I hate it when characters get portrayed--”

“Okay, fine, but why do I have to wear all this stuff!?” Stiles whines, waving his arms, his jacket swishing with every motion.

“Because its cute,” Allison says.

Derek has to agree.

“Ugh, too hot,” Stiles grunts, tugging at the matching blue scarf he’s wearing.

“Yeah, you are,” Derek offers with a smile.

Stiles snorts, amused, but he lets Derek help Stiles anyways, rearranging the scarf so it’s not as snug, pulling it down to give him some more breathing room. Derek pauses, trying not to linger his gaze on the exposed skin of Stiles’ neck.

“Alright, big guy, ready for our first date?” Stiles winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “I mean, our pretend date.”

“Absolutely,” Derek says. “You said you’ve never skated before?”

“Yeah, Scott thinks it would be adorable to see me humiliate myself on camera,” Stiles says as the rink attendant hands them each a pair of skates. “It’s actually the reason we are doing this, I think he just wants to see me bust my ass.”

“Only half true,” Scott says, chuckling behind them. “I just want to get some cute moments of like, you falling on Derek or him helping you up.”

Stiles sticks his tongue out at Scott. “Just you watch, it’ll turn out that I am excellent on the ice.”

Stiles is _not_ excellent on the ice.

As soon as the skates are on and they start out onto the rink, Stiles’ knees quake and he slips, losing his balance, grabbing onto Derek’s arm as he goes and pulling both of them to the cold surface of the rink.

Derek laughs, helping a shaky Stiles stand up. A few feet away, Scott grins, giving Derek a thumbs up behind the camera. “Come on,” Derek says, doing a neat circle on his skates, turning around to face Stiles. “Here, don’t move, you can just glide along, okay?” He holds Stiles’ hands and slowly skates backward, letting the momentum pull him along. Stiles lets out a breath of awe as they move across the ice, and his mouth falls open delightedly.

“I’m gonna let you go now,” Derek says.

“No, wait!” Stiles flails when Derek drops his hands and pushes himself away. Stiles starts waving his arms helplessly until he realizes he’s standing.

Derek can’t help but smile, seeing Stiles take a tentative step and then skating forward, just a little, watching the glee on Stiles’ face as he successfully glides forward, gaining momentum. His face is flushed from the exertion, and his nose is adorably red.

“Oh shit, no, how do I stop-- Derek!”

Stiles tumbles into Derek’s arms, and Derek catches him, letting the extra speed spin them about until they’ve slowed to a halt.

“Whoa,” Stiles says dizzily, looking up at Derek through his eyelashes.

Derek knows it’s not snow, but there are flakes of ice from the last fall caught in Stiles’ beanie, falling onto his cheeks, and Stiles is just _looking_ up at him. He smells good, and Derek knows his body is just reacting to the scent now, some strange combination of curiosity and a bright happiness that Derek just wants to keep smelling, forever.

His arms curl around Stiles waist, bringing their bodies closer, and Stiles just leans forward and kisses him.

It’s not at all like the intense, hungry kisses they’ve shared during their previous video, during the party, or even the quick, soft kiss at the office yesterday. Stiles is kissing him slowly and deliberately, coaxing Derek’s lips apart. Stiles bites Derek’s lip, moaning when Derek kisses back hungrily, and he can smell the sharp zing of arousal.

Stiles wedges his thigh between Derek’s legs, and the hot weight of his body moving forward, and then Derek loses balance, toppling backwards, Stiles falling atop of him.

The change in position brings their bodies flush together, and Stiles’ hips brush up against Derek’s as he kisses him again. Derek is caught between the warmth of Stiles’ mouth and the press of his body against the chill coming from the ice below him, and it feels incredible, perfect. Derek brings his hands up to squeeze Stiles’ supple ass--

“Hey, did you guys hear me say cut?”

Derek hastily lets go, and Stiles rolls off of him. In the distance, the rink attendant is flushed bright red, staring at them unabashedly, and Danny is snickering with Allison.

Scott shakes his head and smiles. “Nice work, guys, but we don’t actually have a permit to film uh, anything more than PG-13 rated in this area,” he says. “Not that it didn’t look good! Maybe next time I’ll get a permit and you guys can fuck on the ice, yeah?”

“Sounds great, Scotty,” Stiles says, standing up. He brushes off the flakes of ice from his pants.

Derek is still lying on the ice, a little dazed from the kiss. He’d forgotten that this wasn’t actually a date, and now watching Stiles just go from warm and happy to seemingly unaffected, it makes his stomach drop and Derek remembers what this actually is.

Derek takes a deep breath and gets up, standing shakily on his skates. It’s fine. He knows what he was getting into, this is just a job right now to Stiles, but and there’s nothing that says they can’t be friends and then go from there.

Stiles wobbles a little, trying to skate forward and off the rink, and then he turns around and gives Derek that disarming smile of his, that bright happy scent wafting towards Derek, and it makes him feel settled, knowing that at least Stiles is having a good time and Derek’s contributed to that somehow.

“C’mon, Derek,” Stiles says, holding out his hand.

Derek takes it.

 

* * *

 

 

They head back to the studio to film the outdoor sex portion of the video, the patio garden a stand-in for the lush hedges of the park. Stiles knows it’ll all turn out well in the final product anyways.

Allison scatters some fake snow on some of the bushes, and Danny sets up lights. “Stiles, do you want me to get the cushion thing for your knees?” he asks.

“Naw, I’m fine,” Stiles says, testing his foot on the springy grass.

“Um, do we have a plan here? I haven’t got my company email setup yet so I didn’t get the script you sent me,” Derek says nervously.

“Sure,” Scott says. “There wasn’t actually a script for that. I thought it’d be pretty simple. We get a shot of Stiles dragging you into the hedges, horny as fuck, and then he blows you and you come on his face.”

Stiles stretches, cracking his neck and winking at Derek. He’s looking forward to this, actually. It’s not like he’s been thinking about Derek everytime he’s been jerking off, but Stiles really just wants _more._ More Derek, more of everything he’s been waiting for since Derek started working with them. Stiles thought it was going to be like, banging Derek everyday on the job, but this first week has been so stilted and weird, with Derek avoiding him and everything.

It’s good to know he’s doesn’t have any hard feelings about this whole ‘wanting to date Stiles’ thing. Probably what will happen is Derek will forget all about it. Stiles can certainly help him forget about. Sex is good, sex is awesome, Stiles is good at it, and he plans to blow Derek away. Literally.

“Actually, uh, I was thinking I could go down on Stiles?” Derek asks, and his ears are turning pink. “I haven’t yet. I mean, we could still do the same thing, he can come on my face and everything.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Scott says, nodding. “Did you have any other ideas?”

“I could open him up while we’re supposed to be here in the ‘park’,” Derek says. “I mean, it’s what I would do, if we were on a date, y’know, having fun ice skating, Stiles being a little tease--”

“Hey!”

“-- and then I get him sloppy and open, get him to come with my fingers and my mouth, get him ready for when we get home and I fuck his brains out.”

Stiles mouth falls open, and he probably smells very obvious because Scott flicks him a knowing look.

“Sounds good, Derek,” Scott says, lifting the camera. “Okay, you guys ready?”

“Yeah,” Stiles croaks, and Derek nods.

They have to do the shot three times because Stiles keeps messing up. “You look too nervous, Stiles,” Scott says after the second take. “This is fun, okay, just relax.”

They finally get it, a few shots of Derek eagerly yanking Stiles into the bushes, pressing him up against the shrubbery, kissing him hot, hard and fast. Derek’s beard brushes up against Stiles chin, and he’s demanding, insistent, and Stiles suddenly remembers a particular video he’s seen of Derek, once before when he was still _Diamond Vista Ridge,_ Stiles watching awestruck as Derek flips another guy over and holds his thighs down, fucking ardently into him.

Stiles can barely hang on, doesn’t even register the leaves that are brushing past his head, the way the cool air brushes over his exposed skin when Derek pushes his pants down, and then Derek moves away from the magic he’s doing with his mouth to bite into Stiles’ neck.

The graze of teeth makes Stiles jolt up and gasp, and then Derek’s tongue is laving the bite, hot and wet, doing this ridiculous circular motion and Stiles is almost certain he’d fall into the bush except for Derek’s hand on his hip, keeping him steady.

Derek’s got another hand stroking his cock, now, and Stiles resists thrusting into the pressure, but it’s difficult because he wants more, chasing that delicious friction. His knees quake when Derek swirls his thumb around the tip, but Derek’s hand drops to the curve of his ass, holding him upright.

And Derek looks up at him as he drops to his knees, face beautiful against the green grass behind him, eyes dark with intent, and he takes Stiles’ cock into his mouth, slowly and reverently, suckling the tip, and then kissing along the shaft before taking all of it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Stiles gasps, and Derek hums around his cock. There’s a finger pressing between his asscheeks, spreading him open, and then a tube of lube is tossed at Stiles’ feet.

Derek uncaps it hastily with one hand, his mouth never leaving Stiles’ cock, other hand splaying him open, and Stiles can feel the chill autumn wind blowing across his ass. He can feel it now, the vision they were going after, the fun, teasing date, hands and bodies colliding on the ice rink, teasing kisses leading to a furtive grope in the bushes now ending with Stiles’ pants down, Derek opening him up enthusiastically with a slick one-- no, two fingers.

Derek’s eyes never leave Stiles’, and Stiles groans when fingers crook into him, simultaneous with the feeling of the velvet heat of Derek’s mouth, lips wrapped tight around his cock, bobbing up and down.

“Derek,” Stiles breathes out. “Please,” the words tumble out of his lips before he knows what he’s asking for, but Derek seems to know, pressing his fingers deeper, and Stiles groans. He does actually fall this time, knees betraying him as he sinks into the grass. Derek follows him, pressing kisses into his thighs, spreading his legs as far as they’ll go with Stiles’ pants still hobbled around his ankles, jeans dangling above him as Derek presses him into the ground, fingers finding themselves inside Stiles again, and it feels so good, so dirty and perfect, right here in the grass--

Stiles lays back in the cool surface of the grass, trembling as Derek traces his finger around his rim, it’s simultaneously too much and not enough, and Stiles knows how he wants it now, just--

“Fuck me, Derek, please, just here--”

There’s scrambling around him, and Stiles know that his friends are moving to get better angles, but it’s not enough to break him out of the lust filled haze right now that’s just Derek’s mouth on his neck, Derek’s body on top of his, Derek’s fingers in his ass.

“I-- Stiles, I -- come for me, okay, you look so good like this--”

Stiles moans when Derek takes a breath and then swallows him down, all the way to the base of his cock, breathing him in like he’s the air, and Stiles is close, so close, leaves in his hair and back in the dirt, just wants Derek to fuck him already, and then Derek presses deep inside him, and Stiles just comes and comes and comes.

Derek swallows, but it keeps coming, and ends up mostly on his face, white dripping obscenely down his beard. Stiles pants, still coming down from the orgasm, reaching for Derek for a kiss, ends up kissing his temple instead. “Let me, I want to,” Stiles starts.

Derek turns away, embarrassed, when Stiles reaches for his zipper, but it’s clear that he’s hard and straining against his jeans, the outline of his dick clearly visible, a damp wet spot like he’s--

“Sorry, I’m, Stiles, I-- uh-- can we?”

The words fall out of him, unsure, and Scott says cut, puts the camera down, and Allison and Danny follow suit.

Derek dashes off inside the studio immediately, and Stiles watches, dumbfounded. He takes the towel Allison hands him and wipes himself off hastily, pulls his pants back up. “Derek!” Stiles calls, just as the door slams. “Jesus, was it that bad?” he asks. No one answers, and he just hurries after inside the building.

Stiles finds Derek inside the bathroom, staring at the mirror, holding the sink so tight that his knuckles are turning white, breathing heavily.

“Derek, are you okay?” Stiles asks, worried. “I’m sorry, I uh, I know I probably didn’t taste that good, my diet hasn’t been--”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Derek says, face red. “You tasted really-- really good,” he says, voice breathy.

“You haven’t gotten off yet,” Stiles says awkwardly, staring at the bulge in Derek’s pants. For some reason it looks bigger than it did a minute ago outside. “I-- I can help with that, if you want. I mean, it’s fine. Even if it’s not for the studio, you know. Like I know we have to film the apartment scene, but it’ll take a bit for them to get the set ready and everything. I can totally--”

“Stiles,” Derek says, and he lets go of the sink and turns around, standing in front of the mirror. “It’s not that I don’t want to-- I know that you asked me to, to fuck you, and I want to, I just, I’m sorry this has just been happening a lot lately and I don’t know--”

Stiles stares as Derek unzips his pants and shoves them down, erection bobbing against his thigh. It’s a pretty dick, sure, flushed red from arousal, thick and curved slightly to the left, but that’s not what makes Stiles do a double take, it’s the thick, engorged knot, swollen at the base.

“Derek, you--” Stiles gasps.

“It’s for you,” Derek says, looking down at his feet. “I mean, ever since that night at the party I’ve been--”

“Wait a minute, I thought I made that up,” Stiles says, stepping closer, and now that he sees it the memory is a lot clearer in his head-- and he knows it’s a _memory_ now, not some idle fantasy. “We, I-- I did this, with you,” he says in awe, reaching out to touch.

Derek shudders when Stiles’ fingers graze the knot, feather light touches dancing all along the edge. Stiles ignores the part of himself that is absolutely fascinated by what’s happening here, why Derek is knotting for _him,_ focusing on the fact that it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And maybe thinking about what it would feel inside of him.

Derek closes his eyes, like it’s too much, and Stiles isn’t even touching him, fingers hovering just above the knot. Stiles is captivated by the contrast of his pale fingers and the dark, flushed skin, and then impulsively squeezes it. The knot is hot under his hand, and then Stiles runs his hand along the length of Derek’s cock. Stiles drops to his knees so he can taste, wants so badly to suck Derek off right now, feel the weight of that cock on his tongue, see how much of that knot he can fit in his mouth.

_“Stiles,”_ Derek says, voice absolutely broken, and his entire body trembles, going slack and almost slipping against the sink, but he catches himself, barely keeping upright. Stiles’ mouth is open, just about to go for it when Derek just comes without warning, spurting all over Stiles’ face.

“Fuck, I barely touched you,” Stiles says, astonished. He swallows what’s in his mouth, licks at the come splattered across his lips, and then looks back at Derek.

Derek looks mortified. “I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t, you’re just _so_ …”

“So... what?” Stiles stands up, and Derek just stares at him. Stiles can see his reflection in the mirror behind Derek, and he looks ridiculous, he knows, all sex hair (and grass? is that grass in his hair?) and face all flushed, painted with sticky come.

“You just..” Derek seems to be at a loss for words. He’s still hard, Stiles notices, and the knot is still prominent, and Derek struggles to tuck himself back inside his pants, wincing a little as he zips up. Derek shakes his head, grabbing a roll of paper towels and handing it to Stiles.

Stiles waves it off, settling for just rubbing all of Derek’s come into his skin. He remembers doing this before, in their first video, and Stiles knows he had gone into that studio with the one intention of proving he could make Derek come hard, and then it had been some sort of stupid power play, toying with Derek’s instincts.

Now Stiles wants to be covered in Derek’s scent again, but maybe only to see that half lidded come-drunk expression of awe again, the one that Derek’s giving him right now that makes him feel a little lightheaded, happy.

Stiles doesn’t think about it, it just seems right. He moves forward, catching Derek’s lips with his own, and Derek makes a bright noise of surprise before wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist, bringing him closer.

He tastes good, like Stiles has been kissing him all his life, and he wants to keep kissing him.

Derek pulls away first, eyes alight with concern. He rests his forehead against Stiles’ own. “Stiles… there isn’t anyone here,” he says, voice carefully light. “You don’t have to--”

“I wanted to,” Stiles says. “I-- I--” he doesn’t really know how to explain, so he goes for what’s easiest for him to understand. “I mean, you got me off, I get you off, we’re even. I couldn’t let my favorite filming partner to jerk it sadly alone in the bathroom, now could I?”

Derek blinks. “I’m your… only filming partner?”

“And therefore my favorite,” Stiles says, and grins at him. His flippant smile falters a little when he realizes they’re still impossibly close, Derek’s arms holding him flush against his body, Stiles’ face an inch away from Derek’s still. Kissing distance. Stiles can count his eyelashes, see every fleck of color in his eyes.

“I’m glad I came in here after you,” Stiles says. “And got to see this.” He strokes the bulge in Derek’s pants. “You said it was… for me?”

Derek looks nervously away. “Yeah, but we can work something out for the videos, so you don’t have to, uh. I figured you probably didn’t want--”

“I _do_ ,” Stiles says sincerely.

Derek’s eyes widen. “You want me to--”

“Knot me, yeah,” Stiles says, voice steady. “I think I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: knotting, at long last.


	9. If Your Heart Surrenders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Jay and Sylvia for reading through and suggestions! :)

They can’t film the apartment scene right away, which makes Stiles nervous. He knew Scott had planned some downtime between the outdoor scene and the next but forgot all about it when he was with Derek in the bathroom, making his whole “knot me” declaration.

Stiles isn’t sure what he was expecting, for Derek to carry him off to bed immediately? Nope, they’re on a schedule, and instead of moving to immediate sexytimes, Stiles is _hanging out_ while they’re waiting for Derek’s current knot to go down. It works out well enough at least, since the plan was to finish the set dressing for the “apartment” anyways, even though there’s no way they could have known Derek was gonna pop a knot just from going down on Stiles and thus need time before another scene.

Thinking about it is enough to make Stiles hot under his collar again, just the difference between Derek’s old persona known for his werewolf stamina to practically coming untouched, shuddering underneath Stiles’ hands. He unravels the scarf he’s wearing and throws it on the bed, where it joins the puffy jacket he was wearing earlier.

Stiles turns around to find Derek smiling shyly at him, holding out a bag of nuts and bolts. Oh right. They were doing something, making this thing.

To his left, Scott snorts into the instruction manual he’s holding.

Not all of the furniture has been assembled for the new set, so they’re all busy trying to finish it for the next shoot and make it look lived-in. The bed is done, with a new mattress and soft looking sheets and pillows, but the shelf and nightstand are still in pieces, and the walls are bare of any decoration.

Stiles takes a nut and bolt out of the bag, aligning it up for the shelf they’re working on, and nods at Derek. “Here, I’ll hold this steady, you screw it in,” he says.

“Sure,” Derek says, nodding, twisting the screw.

Allison starts giggling, almost dropping the hammer she’s holding. “You do that, Derek,” she says in between bursts of laughter.

“Screw him hard,” Scott says, grinning handing Allison a nail.

“Shut up,” Stiles says. “At least we’ve got half of this thing built already, which is better than you two. What, you guys have hung up three photos? And this is so weird, like if Derek and I had an apartment together, why would there be lame stock photos hanging in our bedroom?”

“They’re not bad, they’re just landscapes,” Allison says. “Besides, we’ll slowly fill them up with like actual photos of you guys, and viewers can see the progression of your relationship. It’ll be cute.”

“Oh, do we have photos from the ice skating already?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, Danny is looking over the footage right now and pulling out some stills, but it’d be weird if those were in this video,” Scott says. “There was a cute shot of you guys holding hands and walking together that I think that would work. We could have it in the set for next time.”

Derek is still twisting, the metal screw wobbling as Stiles eyes it. “Dude, I don’t think you have the right size. Try the bigger one--” Stiles regrets the choice of phrasing as soon as its out of his mouth because Scott and Allison start laughing immediately.

“Yeah, he’ll give you the big one, alright,” Jackson says, working on the nightstand in the corner. He’s flicking the stuck wheels on a drawer, frowning at them. “Heard you were getting knotted for the first time, too. Now this I gotta see.”

Stiles can feel his stomach churn. He knows what he does for a living and actually gets off on the exhibitionism sometimes, but he really can’t bear to think of everyone standing around, filming, Jackson making comments off to the side or whatever. It’s not what he imagined for-- well, for when he told Derek he wanted to do this for him.

It had felt like a promise.

Of what, Stiles isn’t sure.

But he really doesn’t want anyone else there for this, he realizes.

“Uh, yeah, haha,” Stiles laughs bitterly. “Excuse me.”

He gets up and leaves the room, shaking a little. He ends up in the rec room, flopping on the couch. Derek’s fluffy sweater is still here from the movie night, and Stiles finds himself burying his face in it. This is all the sweater’s fault. Stupid sweater, looking cute on Derek, making him--

“Hey,” Scott says, walking into the room. “I told Jackson he wasn’t allowed on set for your scene. It’ll be just me and Allison filming, ok?”

Stiles sighs and turns over. “Look, you know how when you knot Allison, and it’s all soft and intimate and you have those fixed cameras because you said having me or Danny there would ruin the mood?”

“Oh, do you want that?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “I think I do. I mean, not really, like for me, but--” he scrunches his face.

Scott sits down on the coffee table, just listening and waiting patiently for Stiles to continue. There’s a slow smile just starting on Scott’s face, like he was gonna suggest bowing out of the filming anyways. Stiles knows if this were anyone else but Scott they would be telling him the obvious right now. He’s grateful that Scott knows him well enough to let him just have this moment where Stiles can admit this to himself.

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Stiles mumbles into the sweater, finally.

“Sure you do,” Scott says. “Just take your time. Doesn’t need to make perfect sense right now.”

“Okay, you know that I can’t--” Stiles waves his hand and makes a vague gesture, and Scott nods with understanding. “But I want to give this to him, you know, like at least make it kind of a special thing, that’s not just for work? Like I can’t give him a relationship like he wants, but I can do this for him.”

“For Derek.”

“Yes.”

“And what do _you_ want?”

Stiles groans, turning over on his back, bringing the sweater with him. It drags on his face and all he can see is gray, the knitted wool soft against his face. He thinks about Derek teaching him how to make hot chocolate, waking up that night from the party with Derek’s fingers entwined with his own, Derek catching him on the ice earlier today, eyes fond.

“I don’t know, Scott. I really don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

They get back to the set to find it for the most part, complete, Derek proudly putting the finishing touches on the shelf and watching Allison scold Jackson with amusement.

“I can’t believe you were about to use lube for those drawer wheels!”

“The instructions says use lubrication as needed!” Jackson retorts.

“Yes, the kind _for furniture!_ Not the quality kind we put in our bodies,” Allison says, throwing a small bottle at Jackson. “Use this instead!”

It bounces off Jackson’s head and rolls towards Stiles feet. It’s got the store logo and the words _Furniture Lubricant: For Use on Wheels, Rails and More!_ printed on the label. It’s clearly unopened.

“Just make sure you put this away somewhere else other than the regular supply closet,” Stiles says, handing the bottle back to Jackson. “I’d hate to accidentally put this stuff in my butt or something.”

Scott snorts. “Derek, keep an eye on him. You weren’t here for the garlic incident last year. Stiles is the reason why we order lube in bulk now because when he wants to get off, he’ll use anything and everything.”

“Garlic incident?” Derek asks.

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t know it was like, special fancy olive oil Allison bought for Scott’s cooking,” Stiles protests.

Scott throws up his hands. “It was in the kitchen! Next to the steak!”

“Yeah well, I had a need, okay?” Stiles grumbles.

“You smelled like garlic for a week,” Allison says, snorting.

Derek laughs. “Okay, Stiles, I’ll make sure nothing but actual lube goes in your butt,” he says.

“And your dick,” Stiles throws back at him.

Derek grins widely, and Stiles forgets why he was nervous at all.

 

* * *

 

 

The cameras are all set in place, one affixed to the headboard, one on the shelf and one on a tripod just looking over the foot of the bed.

Stiles is already dressed all back in his winter gear, tugging the hat back onto his head. The puffy jacket swishes around him as he checks each of the cameras one more time.

“Hey,” Derek says, closing the door behind him. “Uh, where is everybody?”

“I thought it could be just us,” Stiles says. He feels a little hot and embarrassed, admitting this, but it’s probably just the ridiculous amount of layers he’s wearing. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah-- yeah, that’s fine,” Derek says. “It’s nice. Uh-- so should we just, um--”

“I just need to turn on the cameras and we can go.”

“Go,” Derek repeats stiffly.

“Relax, just-- look, why don’t we pretend we just got back from ice skating or something, and I’m putting these stupid clothes away and then you tear them all off me,” Stiles suggests. He sets each of the cameras to record for three hours and then turn off automatically. Stiles is prepared for anything. He most certainly isn’t going to waste precious film recording him doing a Sudoku puzzle while knotted, as funny as that was. “Ready?”

Derek nods but he doesn’t move, not even after Stiles starts taking off the hat and scarf and putting them away in a drawer. Stiles looks up, and Derek is just awkwardly still standing there.

“Hey,” Stiles says. He walks over and just takes Derek’s face in his hands, kissing him soundly until Derek relaxes.

“Sorry, I messed up,” Derek says softly.

“It’s fine, you looked uncomfortable. Here, look, we’ll try it a different way. C’mon.” Stiles leaves the cameras running, and leads Derek out the door. They stand in the hallway, Stiles slapping at his cheeks.

“What are you doing?”

“We just came in from the cold, right? I’m gonna look all flushed and rosy. Plus theoretically we just had awesome public sex in the park, so I’m suuuuuuper embarrassed but can’t wait for more.”

This makes Derek chuckle a little, and he looks less tense. Good.

“Alright, I’m gonna hop on your back.”

“What?”

“Piggyback ride,” Stiles says. “C’mon, gimme, I want up. It’s a boyfriendly thing to do, right? Plus it looks fun.”

“Uh, okay,” Derek says. He turns around and Stiles jumps eagerly onto his back, and Derek catches his legs neatly. Stiles presses his face into Derek’s neck, looping his arms around his shoulders.

“Onward!” Stiles announces loudly, kicking at the door.

Derek laughs and opens it, carrying Stiles inside. “I’m not your horse.”

“Yeah, well I’m still gonna ride you later,” Stiles jokes. He grins, knowing the camera on the shelf is catching this whole exchange. Derek turns around to say something, and Stiles kisses him instead, just light enough to be teasing.

“Is that a promise,” Derek asks, eyes darkening.

“Of course--”

Derek lets go of Stiles’ feet and he slides slowly off his back, the playful mood dissipating. Derek turns around, gently pressing Stiles onto the bed and then climbing on top of him, kissing him slowly.

Stiles groans, letting Derek take control of the kiss. It’s maddeningly slow, Derek taking his time to just _kiss_ him, deliberate and tortuous because every time Stiles tries to deepen the kiss or even grind up against Derek, Derek just pauses, moving his mouth to Stiles’ neck, nosing along the skin, then gradually dragging his tongue along the hollow of his throat.

Derek finally stops to pull the jacket off Stiles, dropping it on the floor, and then eases his shoes off one by one. Then socks.

“Derek,” Stiles says, not trusting his voice to say more at the moment because he knows anything he says right now is gonna sound desperate.

“Mm?” Derek asks. He leans in to kiss Stiles quickly, light and teasing, and then peels Stiles out of his shirt. The kissing continues down Stiles’ jaw, his neck, down his torso, and then Derek halts right below his navel after placing one more soft kiss into the trail of hair leading into his pants.

It’s incredibly different from the heated undressing earlier. Time seems to slow and Stiles just watches, transfixed, as Derek pops the button of his jeans and then drags the zipper down with his teeth, and then closes his eyes and just rubs his face against the clothed bulge.

And then Derek licks him through the fabric of his boxers, and Stiles can’t help but let out a whimper. Derek mouths at his him as if he has all the time in the world until Stiles is on the edge and his boxers haven’t even come off yet.

Derek makes a move to drag his jeans and boxers off. Stiles helpfully lifts his hips, and then he’s finally naked. Derek runs his hands down Stiles’ bare chest and stops just short of Stiles’ aching cock, tracing his fingers down his bare thighs instead, running them down his legs as he pulls them up to his shoulders. Stiles notices his fingers are trembling as Derek touches his calves, and then Derek kisses his ankle, the touch of his lips soft, like a question.

“Derek--” Stiles breathes out slowly. What is he doing? It’s not that he isn’t enjoying this-- it feels really good--but he thought Derek would be eager to get to the actual knotting part of this. As it is it feels like he’s just slowly and methodically touching every part of Stiles’ body, like he’s trying to memorize him.

“Is this-- is this okay?” Derek asks softly. “I just want to make sure you feel good.”

“Yeah, it’s gr _\-- uh!”_

Derek spreads Stiles’ legs apart and kneels down in front of him to blow a hot breath right across his hole. Stiles thinks about what this looks like, sees the camera on the shelf behind Derek, red light blinking, imagining what it’s recording: himself, splayed out naked on the bed, Derek holding his thighs open, breathing on him, simply _watching_ Stiles tremble.

And then suddenly, Derek _moves_ , dropping the tortuous, methodical routine entirely. He licks a hot wet stripe around Stiles’ rim and then wastes no time diving in, tongue pushing in, establishing a merciless rhythm quickly. Stiles gasps, and Derek looks up, eyes dark with intent, holding the gaze as he eats him out relentlessly, velvet tongue stopping at nothing, not even when Stiles’ entire body quivers-- Derek holds him down, fingers gripping his hips. A litany of words start to tumble out of Stiles’ mouth and he loses track of them; it’s a blur of _Derek_ and _fuck_ and _you feel so good_ and _please_ and _more_ and Stiles is begging singlemindedly, unashamed. Derek’s tongue is keeping him on the edge of the orgasm, bringing him close and then pulling away, then coming back for more.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me. C’mon Derek,” Stiles gasps.

“Getting you ready,” Derek says, kissing the inside of Stiles’ thigh.

Stiles can hear the slick sound of lube on fingers, and then the sensation of one, then two pressing into him, stretching him out. Derek nips at his balls, licking the skin and then moves upward to his leaking cock, tonguing up the shaft. Stiles groans at the sight of Derek’s lips shiny with his own precome, and then Derek swirls his tongue around the sensitive underside of his head.

Stiles is pretty sure a third finger-- possibly a fourth-- is inside him now, and he feels so good and so full but he wants more, he wants _Derek_ \--

Derek seems to read the desperation in his eyes because he stands back up, losing his shirt and quickly stepping out of his jeans and underwear. Stiles watches him, dizzy with want, and then Derek climbs onto the bed with him.

“You okay, you comfortable?” Derek asks.

“Yes, yes, _please_ just--” Stiles moans, but he lets Derek nudge him towards the top of the bed and put a pillow behind his head. “Derek--”

Derek leans over, turning Stiles’ hips to the side, aligning his cock right up to where Stiles can feel it, hot and nudging against his rim.

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

~

Derek moves forward, and Stiles thinks he’s going for a kiss, so he arches up to meet him, but instead Derek just grazes their noses together, touching and rubbing, sighing happily. He looks into Stiles’ eyes for a long moment, and it feels like an eternity, a question.

Stiles answers.

He tilts his face just so to kiss Derek, a soft reassurance, and then Derek groans, hips moving forward, cock pushing inside Stiles.

It’s intense, but Derek is a grounding presence, one hand on his hip and another wrapped around Stiles’ shoulder, as he presses inside. He kisses Stiles again, tasting of skin and sweat and the heady musk of Stiles’ own body, and he feels good, so good like this.

Stiles finds himself reaching out to pull him closer, curling an arm around Derek’s back.

“Stiles, I--” Derek breathes, voice unsteady.

“Yes,” Stiles says, stroking the sides of Derek’s torso. “Yes, Derek, I want you, just, please--”

Derek thrusts forward, sliding deep into him now, and Stiles aches with sensation, and then he moves again, his face falling onto Stiles’ cheek, like he’s losing control.

Derek cries out Stiles’ name over and over, and it’s never sounded better said aloud. Derek holds on to Stiles desperately, like he’s looking for something, like an anchor--

“I’ve got you, yeah, Derek--” Stiles whispers.

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

~

Derek kisses him again, fierce and hungry, and that’s when Stiles feels it.

It’s a hot pressure building up inside him that causes Derek to slow down, his eyes glazing over, fingers tracing Stiles’ cheek like he’s something precious.

The knot is nothing at all like Stiles expected it to be. He thought it would just be _bigger_ \-- but this, this is something else, filling him up like he’s never been so full before, and it feels good, right--

Derek, still buried inside him to the hilt, arches his back, pushing forward and _oh right there--_

Stiles sees stars.

Derek’s coming too, Stiles realizes, because he can feel the hot wet heat rushing inside of him. Derek’s trembling like he’s giving himself over, and then he just _collapses_ atop of Stiles, body going slack with pleasure. He presses his forehead to Stiles’ own, skin damp with sweat and exertion.

Stiles closes his eyes. Just thirty minutes or so, he tells himself, and then they won’t be tied together anymore, and then he can go home… and fall asleep in his own bed…

Derek’s arm curls closely around him, one of his fingers lightly stroking across Stiles’ chest, and Stiles can feel the warmth of Derek’s lips on his neck, the slight prickle of his beard.

Derek is breathing steadily, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, his heart beating in tandem with Stiles’ own, and it feels good. Safe.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire gifset of that scene can be found [here.](http://betabutt.tumblr.com/post/103876299647) Oh, that's my nsfw blog, by the way. I collect lots of gifs and photos of Teen Wolf lookalikes, for all ships. Give it a gander if you're into butts. \\(^_^)/


	10. You'll Need Me To Hold

Derek comes to slowly, with Stiles still in his arms.

Stiles is sound asleep, lips parted slightly, breathing steadily. Derek watches for a long moment, breathing in his now familiar scent. He brushes his nose along the soft skin at Stiles’ neck, closing his eyes and trying to memorize the way this feels, the intimate way they’re curled around together.

Derek takes one more breath, allowing himself to hold him like this just a little more.

They must have fallen asleep right after they knotted. The room is dark, and there’s a single shaft of moonlight filtering through the curtains, shifting softly on the floor. He can’t hear anyone else in the building.

Derek knows Stiles won’t want to wake like this, spooned together like they’re an actual couple or something. There would be no need to pretend now that they’re not being filmed. Derek sighs, and presses the slightest of kisses to Stiles’ forehead.

Derek sits up, scooting off the bed, watching Stiles sleep. He’s starfished out on the bed, sheets kicked to a far corner, mouth falling open. He smells warm and sated, content. Stiles murmurs a little, shifting his hips and scooting them up, pushing his ass into the air. It should be cute and ridiculous that he sleeps like this, but as is, it’s actually more than a little sexy, like he’s demanding to be fucked. His bare thighs are a little pink, probably from Derek’s beard when he was eating him out yesterday.

Derek can’t look away, imagining waking Stiles up and rimming him again until he comes. It’s obscene, it’s what it is, watching a sleeping Stiles shake his ass unconsciously at him. The motion causes a bit of come to drip slowly out of him, dripping down his thigh, and a strange feeling of possessive pride swells up in Derek.

Stiles is just asleep, though. He sleeps in weird ways, it’s not like he’s intentionally doing this to rile Derek up or anything.

And besides, Stiles definitely isn’t his.  

Derek finds his jeans and contemplates getting dressed and going home, but he doesn’t want to leave Stiles here alone. He doesn’t want to wake him either.

Checking his phone, Derek realizes he has a few text messages from Scott.

_[7:33 pm] hey we took care of all the equipment u guys looked cozy so we didn’t bother u_

_[8:18 pm] k guessing you guys are still asleep but its cool if you sleep over, all of us have crashed in the studio at some point_

_[8:19 pm] also tomorrow is like pack bonding day there’s like a fair in town we were gonna meet at the studio and carpool in the morning_

_[8:20 pm] cora drove ur car home but stiles can give u a ride tmrw whenever ;) take care!_

_[8:32 pm] stiles likes chocolate chips in his pancakes_

It’s currently a little after five in the morning. Derek shakes his head in amazement. They’ve been asleep for quite awhile.

He puts the phone done, padding naked outside the room. The bathroom set is just down the hall, so Derek takes a quick shower, feeling a lot more awake. He towels himself off, bringing back an extra clean towel back to the room with him.

Stiles is still asleep, naked hips twitching slightly with every breath. He’s somehow made his way into the warm spot Derek’s recently vacated, rubbing his face into the sheets. It’s tugging at all of Derek’s instincts, the way Stiles seems to be unconsciously looking for him. Stiles is covered in the delicious and enthralling mixture of both their scents, and Derek can’t help the immediate thought that springs into his head: _he smells like mine._ Derek carefully cleans him up with the spare towel, taking care not to linger with his touch. He just wants Stiles to be comfortable when he wakes up, that’s all.

Derek grabs the sheet and the blanket that’s been kicked to the edge of the bed, tucking them back around Stiles. Stiles shifts suddenly, grabbing the blanket and rolling over, taking Derek’s arm with him and clutching it to his chest, pulling Derek’s body close.

Derek can see every eyelash standing out starkly against Stiles’ pale cheek, fluttering slightly with each breath. It takes Derek a moment, taking the warmth of the touch and the happy sleepy scent of Stiles, and then slowly pulls away.

There’s a moment when Stiles heart picks up again, and Derek thinks he might wake up, but then it slows back down to a steady rhythm.

Derek gets dressed, smiling to himself when he sees Stiles’ puffy jacket on the floor. He hangs it up in the closet. It’s the only article of clothing and looks ridiculous, but something about it makes Derek smile. He snaps a photo of it and chuckles, heading out the door.

Pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes, to be precise.

The kitchen in the lounge is sparsely stocked aside from makings from coffee. There is mix for espresso, though which gives Derek an idea. The refrigerator still has milk from Thursday’s hot chocolate time, but everything else looks old, like the few condiments on the shelf and a tupperware that is marked _PROPERTY OF JACKSON. DO NOT EAT. THIS MEANS YOU, STILES,_ which makes Derek smile. It looks like some sort of pie inside.

There also isn’t much in the cupboards other than a half empty jar of peanut butter and the spices Derek had brought with him.

Shopping it is, then. Derek hasn’t made his espresso-nutella-chocolate-chip pancakes in awhile, and this is a good of an occasion as any.

Derek walks to the grocery store a few blocks away, enjoying the brisk morning air. It’s too early for any traffic on the main street, and dawn peeks tentatively over the horizon. He makes it just as the door gets propped open. “Morning,” says the woman in the cheery plaid apron that declares _NINO’S GROCERY_. “Early bird, are you?”

“Something like that,” Derek says, nodding at her. He finds everything he needs in a brisk ten minutes, and the same woman rings him up at the counter. She’s a werewolf, Derek realizes, her nostrils flaring a little as she starts scanning his items. Her nametag says “Becky.”  Derek looks sheepishly at his feet. He knows he probably reeks of sex.

Becky doesn’t seem at all fazed, in fact looks amused, making a appreciative “hmm” noise as she scans the flour, milk, eggs, butter, and chocolate chips. “Breakfast in bed for your sweetie?” She smiles pleasantly, looking curiously at the jar of Nutella.

“Yeah,” Derek says.

“We’re having a sale on strawberries,” she says, jerking her head over to a nearby display. “You could get a thing of whipped cream, too.” She winks at Derek, who can feel his ears burn.

He gets a basket of strawberries, and then ends up grabbing a can of whipped cream.

Becky gives him an approving smile when she rings them up, packing everything neatly into grocery bags. “My sister makes breakfast in bed every Sunday for her wife,” she says. “It’s really sweet, what you’re doing. It’s nice to have those special traditions, you know, for relationships.”

“Uh, thanks,” Derek says. He pays and takes his bags.

“Have a good day,” Becky says brightly, winking at him.

“Thank you,” Derek says, hastily walking out of the store. He thinks about what Becky must have thought of him and how far it was from the truth. Yes, he wants to make Stiles breakfast in bed but he knows what he wants and what Stiles wants are completely different things. Like for Stiles they would be… friendship pancakes.

And for Derek?

He can see his mother in his head, ready to lecture him about getting himself in this situation in the first place. When he was a teenager getting the sex talk and having his mom talk to him about knotting, he’d been mortified, not willing to listen about her explanation that it was simple werewolf biology to help him find that special someone. But since her death Derek’s come to appreciate these memories, even the embarrassing ones, especially since he can’t make any more of them with her.

He bets she would have liked Stiles. Something about his irreverent attitude, Derek thinks. She wouldn’t be happy with Derek right now, though, the way he’s setting himself up to be hurt, agreeing to film with Stiles and pretend to be in a relationship when all he really wants to do is be in a real one.

Derek knows there is a solution, though. Even though he’s been enjoying spending time with Stiles, it’ll be better to hurt a little now than hurt more later.

The sun is up now, glowing soft warm streaks across the sky, and Derek gets a few curious looks from a jogger, and he knows it looks weird, a grown man walking with a bag of groceries, carefully balanced as to not break the eggs.

The studio is still quiet, and Derek checks on Stiles real quick. Still asleep.

Derek gets to work. He unpacks everything, quickly getting lost in concentration. He mixes the batter according to memory, stirring in the espresso mixture in with the dry ingredients. The kitchen starts to smell like chocolate and hazelnut as soon as he gets the nutella melted in with the melted butter and then it all comes together perfectly, the batter just the right consistency when he mixes in the chocolate chips.

The pancakes cook evenly in the one pan Derek finds in the kitchen, and he makes all the batter. He’s pleased when he finishes plating a tall [stack of the rich chocolatey pancakes](http://tworedbowls.com/2013/09/25/nutella-espresso-pancakes/), and spreads even more nutella on top, sprays a heap of whipped cream and then sprinkles even more chocolate chips.

Derek arranges a bunch of cut strawberries attractively around the pancakes, and then plops a few into the whipped cream, admiring his handiwork.

For his own plate Derek just throws a few of the burnt pancakes and the ones he broke when he was flipping them, leaving the rest of the pretty ones on a plate in case Stiles was still hungry later. He cleans up, putting the leftovers in the fridge, and he hears the steady heartbeat that’s been at the back of his mind since he got back to the studio suddenly start beating faster.

Stiles is awake.

Derek takes the plates upstairs, making his way back to their bedroom set. Stiles’ heartrate has picked up, and he smells a little confused.

Derek nudges open the door with his hip, and walks into the room. “Morning,” he says.

Stiles is sitting up in the bed, sheets and blankets pooled in his lap, blinking curiously at him. “Derek, whoa, what’s this?”

“I made you breakfast,” Derek says, setting Stiles’ plate in front of him carefully on the bed. “I uh, I just woke up a little while ago, I didn’t mean to--” _to cuddle you, to sleep with you, do these intimate things that I know you don’t want to do with me --_ “I mean, I didn’t--” Derek sighs. “I made you breakfast.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, nudging the plate a little closer to Stiles.

“Thanks, dude,” Stiles says, picking up the fork. “Don’t worry about the sleeping over at the studio thing, we do it all the time.”

Derek picks at his own plate, eating slowly, but his attention is focused on Stiles, who is lifting a forkful of pancake to his mouth, whipped cream dripping precariously. He takes a bite, closing his eyes, and licking at the cream on his lips.

“Oh my God,” Stiles announces. “I fucking love you, that was amazing.”

Derek freezes mid-bite of his own pancake. He knows what it’s supposed to taste like, but he can’t for the life of him remember what he’s eating right now.

Stiles looks up at him and takes in the shocked expression on Derek’s face.

“Oh shit, I mean, you know what I mean, right? I’m sorry. The food’s really good,” Stiles says.

Derek isn’t sure what to say, so he just eats his breakfast, looking up at Stiles every once in awhile. Stiles is silent, eating slowly, taking tiny bites of everything, until he finishes the entire plate, and then he stares at the whipped cream and leftover nutella sauce, as if contemplating picking up the plate and licking it.

“Yes, it’ll turn me on, but go ahead, I made it for you, don’t feel guilty about it,” Derek says dryly.

Stiles, now self conscious, raises his eyebrow but he picks up the plate and laps quickly at it and sets it down, wiping his mouth hastily with his arm. “Thank you for breakfast,” Stiles says quietly. “And for… I mean, I’m guessing you cleaned me up, too. I’m not sticky or anything.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek says.

“Last night,” Stiles says carefully. “It was really good, right? Like the knotting, I bet we got a ton of great footage, it’ll be great for business--”

Derek snorts, surprised at the tidal wave of frustration that he didn’t know was building up inside of him. What was he expecting? Make Stiles this perfect delicious breakfast and he’d fall into Derek’s arms and then confess his feelings? And maybe that happened, but it was no more of a whim, a catchphrase for Stiles, dropping out of his mouth like a platitude.

“Look, I really thought I could do this,” Derek says sharply. “But I really can’t.”

“Do… what? Do me?”

“Yes, you,” Derek says. “I _like_ you, Stiles. I like you a lot. And I figured this whole contract, sleeping with you, and you saying you don’t do relationships, it would all be fine, but I don’t think I can do it anymore. Knotting is fucking special, did you know that? I didn’t think I could even do it, but here you come along, and I’m popping knots left and right because for some reason me and you-- just--”

He sighs. Stiles is staring at him, glassy-eyed and shocked, and he opens his mouth to talk, but Derek holds his hand up. “I’m not done. I mean, I really thought I could just do the sex, but it hurts, you know? Knowing you don’t want me like that. I mean, I normally don’t even like sex, don’t care, just do it for the job, and Cora’s always laughed at me, like there can’t be very many demisexual pornstars out there, but I always thought it makes it easier for me, you know. I don’t get attached because I’m not particularly attracted to anyone I do scenes with, it’s just sex to me. It doesn’t mean anything. But with you--”

The morning light is streaming through the sheer white curtain now, and Stiles’ fair skin looks luminous and lovely, the way he’s sitting in the mussed white sheets of the bed, the empty plate in front of him, the picture of domesticity. If Derek was a photographer he could dedicate rolls and rolls of film just to capture how beautiful he looks right now, like a lover in bed sleepily enjoying breakfast.

But Derek isn’t a photographer. He’s a pornstar, and Stiles is too. He’s not Derek’s lover. He’s not Derek’s _anything_.

“Last night-- when we-- when I _knotted_ you, it felt complete, you know? Like not just physically, but more. Like being tied together was what our bodies were made for.” Derek swallows, the memories again of talking with his mom surfacing in his mind. “It’s special, okay? Like I know if I keep doing it, and I keep spending time with you, I’m going to fall in love with you, Stiles.”

“Derek, I--”

“I can’t stay here, I’m going to have to quit,” Derek says, the realization turning his insides cold.

“Derek, don’t, c’mon, you just got here, and we’ve got so many plans--”

“Tell me I have a chance and I’ll stay,” Derek says, sounding more confident than he is. “Tell me if you-- could you ever-- could you love me back?”

The room is silent for what seems like an eternity.

“I don’t know,” Stiles says finally.

There’s no waver in his heartbeat. Derek sighs, getting off the bed. He grabs the dirty dishes, making for the door. At least Stiles is consistent in not knowing. It’s not like hearing him lie about it would have made a difference anyways.

He walks out of the room and doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

 

Fucking shit.

“Derek!” Stiles jumps up, scrambling to out of the bed, mind racing. He trips over the sheets and crashes to the floor, cursing profusely. He finally gets untangled, standing up, looking for his clothes, but he can already hear Derek’s footsteps start to fade.

Stiles gives up on the clothes, grabbing the sheet and running out the door. He runs downstairs, narrowly avoiding tripping on the sheet.

“Derek, please don’t--”

Stiles skids to a halt.

In the main kitchen-lounge area, Danny is sitting up at the counter, happily munching on a pancake. Jackson is spraying whipped cream into his mouth, and Allison is rummaging for silverware.

Derek is standing awkwardly by the door, his exit clearly having been interrupted by everyone coming in. Scott brightens up when he sees Stiles and whistles loudly. “Nice toga,” he says.

“Didn’t get enough last night, Stiles?” Jackson leers. “You know we have a rule about fucking in rooms that aren’t sets.”

“He probably chased Derek down here so they could fuck in our set,” Danny says, and Jackson makes an offended face.

“I--uh--” Stiles grips his sheet tightly, feeling suddenly exposed, despite the fact that everyone here has seen him naked before.

“These pancakes are incredible, Derek,” Allison says, helping herself to one. “What a great way to start the day.”

Scott grins. “Go get some clothes on, Stiles. It’s a pack bonding day, you can’t hog Derek to yourself all day.”

“Um--” Stiles hesitates, and then he sees Scott throw an arm around Derek’s shoulder, and is a bit relieved. He probably won’t leave right away. Stiles can still get a chance to talk, to explain--

“Forgot about our plans for today already?” Allison laughs, misinterpreting Stiles’ expression as confusion. “C’mon, you’ve only been talking about the state fair for weeks. Deep fried fatty foods, ridiculous rides, rigged games that you’re determined to prove your worth at.”

“Right,” Stiles says. “Totally me. Looking forward to all of that. I’ll just-- go get my clothes. Be right back.” He shoots Derek a pleading look, willing him to stay, but Derek just looks at the floor.

“What is _in_ this? _”_ Danny asks, moaning around a mouthful.

“Uh, chocolate chips, espresso, nutella… I can make more,” Derek says. Stiles watches for a second while he starts instructing Allison on mixing more ingredients. Okay, so Derek’s going to be here at least long enough to make more pancakes for everyone. That’s good, Stiles can do this. He can do this.

Stiles heads back upstairs, and then he can hear Derek say, “Scott, can I talk to you for a second?”

 

* * *

 

He’s never gotten dressed quicker. Stiles throws his dirty clothes into the communal hamper, and finds a clean shirt and pair of jeans from his office, making it back downstairs in about five minutes.

Danny is flipping pancakes on the stove, Allison and Jackson are eating, and Scott and Derek are nowhere to be seen.

“They’re in Scott’s office,” Jackson offers.

“Fuck my life,” Stiles says, plopping into a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Allison asks.

Stiles laughs bitterly. “If I could tell you the answer to that, my life would probably not be fucked up.”

“Pancake?” Danny offers. “They’re good, they’ll make you feel better.”

“Nah, I ate a ton earlier. Derek brought me breakfast in bed.” Admitting this makes Stiles feel terrible actually, especially when Allison and Danny make “awww” noises.

“You never bring me breakfast in bed,” Jackson says petulantly to Danny.

“We’re not a real couple, dumbass,” Danny says. He turns to look at Stiles. “I never thought you’d get there with someone, but I’m real proud of you.”

Stiles snorts. “Thanks, but uh, you’re about to get all of that dashed to pieces. We’re not a couple, and Derek is in Scott’s office right now telling him he wants to quit.”

“What?”

“Why?”

“Stiles--”

“Because I don’t know how to-- I don’t even--” Stiles doesn’t know where to start. “What does demisexual mean, anyways?” he asks, changing the subject.

Allison sits down, tilting her head a little. “It’s when a person experiences little to no sexual attraction unless they have a strong emotional connection with someone,” she says slowly. “Why do you ask? Did you think you were…”

Jackson snorts. “Please. Stiles totally is down to bang, like, all the time.”

Allison elbows him sharply in the chest. “Rude.”

Stiles waves a hand in the air. “I didn’t mean for like me, I mean like yeah, I don’t have problems with the sexual attraction business at all, I just uh, heard the term and wanted to understand, that’s all.”

“Remember when I dated Ethan in college? He was totally asexual,” Danny offers. “It’s not the same thing as demisexual, though.”

Jackson raises his eyebrows. “Wait, but you _dated_ him for like three months--”

“I said asexual, not aromantic,” Danny says, rolling his eyes at Jackson. “We cuddled a lot. He was very sweet. It was kind of a pity he had to move away, but neither of us were down to do long distance. I can give you his number, Stiles, if you wanna ask him more about it. He works for like a youth sexuality education hotline so he knows a lot about this stuff.”

“What’s the difference with the asexual and aromantic?” Jackson asks. “Aren’t they the same, like nobody does it for them?”

“No, sexual attraction and romantic attraction are different,” Allison says. “You know, like wanting to have sex with someone versus wanting to have a relationship with them. Sometimes they go together, sometimes they don’t.”

“You know, Stiles, for the longest time I actually thought you might be aromantic,” Danny muses.

“I didn’t even know there were names for all of this,” Stiles says honestly. He just thought the way he felt about relationships was just really abnormal, like there was something wrong with him, and that he was broken somehow.

Allison nods. “I mean, it makes sense for Stiles to be on the spectrum, but I’m not sure if aromantic is exactly right.”

“That where you’d have no romantic attraction, right?” Stiles asks. “I mean… I didn’t know that was a thing, but…”

Danny pushes his phone over at Stiles, where he’s pulled up an article on aromanticism. Stiles skims it quickly, but every sentence he reads, well, it sounds like him. It makes sense in a way, and the phrase _no instinctual need to develop connections of a romantic nature_ jumps out at him, and he keeps reading. There are more people who feel like this? He isn’t the only one?

“I dunno, I mean it’s nice to have a word for it. I’ve never really pictured myself with anyone. I always just thought it was because I was messed up from seeing how my dad was after my mom died, you know? That I didn’t want to go through that heartbreak with anyone if I lost them that way. I’ve never thought it might be like, just a way I was?” Stiles thinks for a second, goes back to the definition and then scrunches his face. “Well, okay maybe it’s not right. I mean…”

Stiles takes a deep breath. “I mean, I haven’t pictured myself with anyone like that before Derek.”

It’s a bit of a relief to say it out loud, because he _has_ been thinking about Derek like this, thinking about what it means that he enjoyed the cuddling and the ice skating … he likes having Derek around. Likes him as a person. Not to mention Derek wrote a three page essay on stuff they still haven’t talked about yet (like why is _Empire Strikes Back_ his favorite _Star Wars_ movie? There has to be a story about that.)

Derek had put him on the spot earlier, and Stiles had freaked out, didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain it, but he didn’t want Derek to leave the studio, to leave _Stiles_. He just didn’t want to disappoint, to tell him ‘sure yeah I can fall in love with you’ when Stiles didn’t even know that he could do that with anyone.

“Demiromantic,” Allison says suddenly.

“What?”

“Kind of like demisexual, but not for sexual attraction, so you don’t develop romantic attraction for someone until you have an established emotional connection,” Allison suggests.

“Ooh, yeah,” Danny says.

“Whatever works,” Jackson says around a mouthful of pancake. “Tell your boyfriend to keep cooking for us, though, because it’s awesome.”

“He’s not my-- shit, I have to--” Stiles gets up, intending to barge into Scott’s office and say something, anything, to get Derek to stay, when Scott and Derek walk back into the room.

“Aw, you guys ate everything,” Scott says, disappointed.

“Nope,” Allison says, uncovering a plate with even more pancakes.

“Baaaabe,” Scott says appreciatively, walking over to give her a kiss.

Derek still looks tense, but not as uncomfortable as before. Stiles gives him a tentative smile, and Derek nods.

Stiles wants to ask Scott what happened, if Derek actually quit or what they talked about, but Scott is currently climbing into Allison’s lap and letting her feed him pieces of pancake and strawberries. Derek just is kind of awkwardly standing by the wall, trying not to look at anyone in particular.

Fuck, Stiles should apologize. Should he take Derek aside? Privately, that would be good, right--

“Hey, Derek, I--”

“It’s okay,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles is confused. He wants to fix it, wants to tell Derek he wants to--

“Hey, okay so I figure we can take Allison’s car and Danny’s, so we’ll save on parking,” Scott says. “Today’s the first day of the fair so it’ll be pretty busy, so we should all get going soon.” He grabs all the dirty dishes, starting to wash them. “Do we have a game plan?”

“Ferris Wheel and Tilt-A-Whirl before the pie-eating contest,” Allison says.

“Right,” Scott agrees.

“Don’t let Stiles spend all his money on the rigged games,” Danny says.

“Hey, I know I can beat the system,” Stiles retorts.

“Every year Stiles tries to win some giant stuffed animal and every year he has to settle for the pity prize after he spends like fifty bucks on one game,” Jackson says.

“I don’t understand why you keep doing it,” Danny says. “For the money you spend you could buy a bunch of stuffed animals that size.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Stiles says. “I have to _win_ it, okay?”

Scott laughs, flicking soapy water at him, and sets the last dish out to dry. “Alright guys, you ready to go?”

Derek nods and somehow leaves first, and as everyone is heading out the door, Stiles manages to grab Scott by the elbow.

“Hey,” Stiles says, worried.

Scott understands immediately. “Look, I asked Derek to just hang out with us for the day for fun, okay? Nothing’s set in stone, don’t worry about it.”

“I fucked up,” Stiles groans, watching them outside the window. Derek is getting into Danny’s Prius, apparently ready to spend a day at the fair with all of them.

“He made you chocolate chip pancakes.”

“And then he asked me if I could ever love him, and I choked, Scott, I didn’t know what to say, just said ‘I don’t know’ like an idiot, and now he’s hurt and--”

“Stiles,” Scott says, grabbing Stiles by the shoulder and shaking him slightly. “Just relax. I know you’re like, itching to apologize but if you go make a big deal of it now you’re only gonna make him more self-conscious about bringing up the subject in the first place.”

“What did he say?” Stiles turns to try and look out the window again, but Scott holds him still, getting him to focus.

“That’s between me and Derek. Look, I don’t want either of you to get hurt. Just… chill, okay? Today’s supposed to be fun, and we do this every year, and this time we get to share it with some new people, so just hang out, you know? It’s not a date because you’re not alone, but it’s not for work, either, so you can hang out with Derek, no pressure.”

“No pressure,” Stiles repeats. “Sure thing, this is gonna be a piece of cake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Nutella Espresso Chocolate Chip Pancakes, Photos and Recipe](http://tworedbowls.com/2013/09/25/nutella-espresso-pancakes/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ~
> 
>  
> 
> **Also a preview for the next chapter:**
> 
>  
> 
> Derek is staring at wall of the stuffed animals pinned up behind the ring toss game. There’s a ridiculously large stuffed teddy bear that has to be at least six feet tall right in the center of his line of vision, and Derek’s got a smile on his face, like he thinks the thing is cute. 
> 
> Stiles walks up to the ring toss, eyeing the bear. It’s gray and fluffy and has the words “I LOVE YOU” written on one of its feet and it’s ridiculously cheesy but it’s never been more clear to him what he wants to do right now.
> 
> “I’m going to win this bear,” Stiles announces.


	11. If We Get Much Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Jay, Charm, Alena, and Dani for all their brainstorming help and being lovely and incredible!

The ride to the fairground is a little stilted, as Scott refuses to tell Stiles of anything Derek said in their discussion, or even give him any hints about what is happening.

“C’mon, Scotty, I really f--”

“I don’t want to hear more from either of you how you fucked it up,” Scott says.

“Wait, Derek said _he_ \--?”

“Nope,” Scott says. “Don’t ask, or I will turn this car around--”

Allison raises her eyebrow from the driver’s seat.

“Or Allison will turn this car around,” Scott corrects. “This is supposed to be a fun day, Stiles. Pack bonding day, and we have two new members of _True Alpha Studios_ to welcome.”

“But what if Derek quits, and the studio, _fuck,_ we had all these plans for--”

Scott takes a deep breath. “Stiles, I know I was excited about adding a new member to the team and all the directions we could go with this you-and-Derek thing, but look, I’m gonna tell you this and then we’re gonna have a worry-free day at the fair, okay? _You_ are more important than the studio to me, and if that means no more videos until you guys figure this out, or no more videos at all, it’s okay.”

“But--”

“We can cut the footage we have into shorter pieces,” Allison suggests. “Release them slowly, tease the audience.”

Okay. So there is time. Time to what, really? Figure this out, as Scott said?

Danny’s car pulls up to them at the red light, and Derek is also in the in the backseat, and for a second their windows align and Derek is looking right at him, and then he looks away, expression unreadable.

“Stiles also thinks he might be demiromantic,” Allison adds, changing the subject.

“Yeah, I just figured out that was a thing today,” Stiles says.

“Really?” Scott turns around in his seat, looking at Allison. “Is that where you…” he makes a vague gesture with his hands.

The explanation doesn’t take that long, and with the addition of a few articles pulled up on a phone quickly, Stiles does learn quite a bit more before he starts to get dizzy with reading in the moving car.

“Dude, that’s great!” Scott says. “I always just thought you were weren’t really interested in most people.”

“I always thought there was something wrong with me,” Stiles says dully.

“Well, there isn’t, ‘cause you’re awesome,” Scott replies. “How are you feeling? Is it like when you figured out you were bi?”

“Naw, that was easy, you know? It was an exciting, fun week of mastubatory experiments. But this… this is a relief, really.” Stiles gives Scott a small smile. At least there was something about this morning that isn’t terrible.

 

* * *

 

 

Cora meets them in the fairground parking lot. She waves excitedly to everyone and gives Derek an affectionate hip bump. “So, how’d it go?” she asks, smirking at him. “He fell asleep in your arms… you spooned all night…”

“Don’t,” Derek warns her.

“And now we’re pack bonding… with the new team…” Cora continues in a singsong voice.

“Just--”

Something in his expression must give him away, because Cora doesn’t push it. She says hello to everyone and doesn’t tease him about Stiles, just starts chatting immediately with Danny, talking about the pie eating contest excitedly.

Derek tries his best to be social, but he’s never been one to talk much at a group outing, especially with so many extroverted personalities. The morning passes in a pleasant way, and it’s pretty fun, watching Cora get along with everyone. If he didn’t have a cloud worry hanging over his own head Derek would be pretty sure he would be having a better time, but it’s alright.

A couple of times Stiles ends up next to him in line or something, and once he offers Derek a spool of cotton candy. Derek takes it and gives him a hesitant smile, which Stiles returns, but the moment is interrupted by their line moving forward, and then it’s time for the Tilt-A-Whirl.

Derek feels like he should say something, but they’re never alone, and it never seems like the right moment.

He’s just purchased a fried cheesecake on a stick and is about to enjoy it when a woman with bright blonde curls darts in front of him.

“Diamond Vista Ridge?” she asks, eyes lighting up.

“Um,” Derek says. He’s not sure if she’s a fan or not, and this isn’t an adult convention where he’s prepared to interact as his pornstar persona. He’s at a family-friendly attraction, there are kids running about. He’d really rather eat his fried cheesecake right now and not deal with this.

She whips out a notebook and pen out of her purse, but doesn’t offer it to Derek to sign. “Rebecca Siggs,” she says, holding her hand out for Derek to shake. He does so, lightly, holding his cheesecake aloft. “I’m with Adult Video News, and I’m just delighted I ran into you today. Can I ask you some quick questions for the magazine?”

“I’m not really--

“Hey, Derek, did you get the fried oreos, because they’re amazing-- oh hey, friend of yours?” Scott asks. He holds out a greasy napkin with the treat, smiling.

“No thank you, I’ve got cheesecake,” Derek says. “And uh, this is Rebecca. She’s press.”

Rebecca looks swiftly from Derek to Scott, tilting her head thoughtfully.

“I just wanted to ask really quick, did you really quit _Hale House?_ Are you out of the business for good?” Rebecca asks.

“Really not the time for an interview,” Derek says hastily. He looks for Cora, she’s always handled this for him, but she’s way ahead, giggling with Allison over funnel cake.

Stiles shows up, standing between Derek and Scott, frowning. “Dude, they’re out of fried cheesecake,” he says, disappointed.

“You can have mine,” Derek offers, handing him his piece.

“Aw, thanks,” Stiles says, tone carefully casual, and their eyes meet for a second. It’s difficult to look away. He takes the cheesecake, biting into it, making a small happy noise at the back of his throat.

Derek coughs, turning away.

“I knew it!” Rebecca says gleefully, scribbling something in her notebook. “You’re that twink from-- oh, what is it--” she snaps her fingers for a second. _“True Alpha Studios!_ And you-- you’re Scott McCall,” she says, pointing at Scott.

Scott clears his throat, tone suddenly smooth and professional. “Yup, thanks, we’re not doing any press stuff right now, but I’d be happy to make a statement to--”

“AVN,” Rebecca offers again.

Scott’s eyebrows go up to his hair. “Oh, alright, sure,” he says, and smoothly walks over to Rebecca and leads her away. She tosses her hair back, looking over her shoulder at where Derek and Stiles are still standing, frozen. Rebecca’s writing hastily in her notebook, and Derek can hear Scott talking to her about her magazine’s use of derogatory slurs towards werewolves, and she’s nodding but clearly not paying attention.

“Well, that’ll be interesting,” Stiles says, taking another bite of his cheesecake.

“What?”

“Scott will have her running circles round her own questions in no time,” Stiles says confidently. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Stiles--”

It’s not the right moment, but it’s _a_ moment, and Stiles smells sad, which Derek does not like at all. He wants to say--

“FUNNEL CAKE!” Danny, Cora and Allison show up behind them, powdered sugar dusting their lips, excited about their dessert.

“Yeah, awesome,” Stiles says, ripping off a piece of the pastry topped with strawberries that Danny offers him. Allison starts telling a joke about manatees, and everyone is uproarious with laughter.

They find Jackson at a game booth, and cheer when he knocks down a bottle with a ball. Jackson wins a teddy bear that he proudly carries under his arm. “Looks like you’re still empty-handed, Stiles,” he says, mockingly.

“Not for long,” Stiles counters, pulling out his wallet and handing a wad of cash to the booth attendant.

Derek watches him miss a few targets with the ball, throwing it incessantly, and stands back as Scott cheers him on, Allison clapping and laughing.

“You wanna go on the merry-go-round?” Cora asks, poking him in the shoulder.

“Sure,” Derek says, and follows his sister away from the game booths. He stops for a second at a different game, looking at the prize wall. It’s got to be the biggest teddy bear he’s ever seen in his life, fluffy and soft looking.

“What would someone even do with a bear that big?” Cora asks when she sees him looking at the bear.

“Cuddle,” Derek says automatically. The bear looks comfortable. He can definitely see it in his own bed that’s way too big for Derek alone. It would probably be good company for when he marathons all the upcoming Christmas specials on the Hallmark Channel.  “I dunno. Stupid, right?”

“Nah,” Cora says. “C’mon, the line’s short for the ride right now, let’s go.”

The electronic music of the merry-go-round is bright and jaunty, and Cora selects a pretty horse all painted up with a bright blue saddle.

Derek picks out a gaudy looking seahorse. He doesn’t know why a seahorse is on the merry-go-round, it kind of looks like it belonged on another ride, but was put onto this one to fill an empty spot. He sits on it anyway, slumping over the animal that smells like stale popcorn.

The merry-go-round starts, slowly revolving. Cora doesn’t speak, just hums along to the broken version of “It’s A Small World” until Derek speaks up. “You look like you’re having fun,” Derek says finally.

“I am,” Cora replies sincerely. “They’re a good group. It’s kind of like--”

“Having a pack again,” Derek says.

“Yeah. No offense to you, you know. You kinda tried, but after Laura left…” She trails off, and Derek is grateful she doesn’t try to press into a time when he wasn’t his best self. “I mean I could never think of Peter doing something like this with us, just to hang out,” she says, changing the topic neatly to making fun of Peter.

Derek snorts. “So true.” He leans his cheek against the cool painted surface of his seahorse. “I miss her. I think she would have liked them.”

“She totally would have,” Cora says, smiling. “She’s doing well, you know. New York’s been good to her. She emailed me last week, said she won this big case.”

“Nice.”

“Scott told me about next week for the full moon he’s planning a trip up near Mt. Baldy to do a proper full moon run,” Cora adds. “He asked you too, right? You wanna go? We haven’t done a full-moon anything in forever.”

Derek knows Cora used to date this guy in another pack in San Diego, and she would do full moon runs with them out in Joshua Tree, but since they broke up Cora’s been pestering Derek to do something shifted with her.

It’s a pain, if your pack isn’t registered with a certain campground or has a longstanding history in an area. The paperwork to do a full shifted run takes forever if you aren’t already in a pack that’s gone through official registration and everything. Derek knows Peter treks all the way back to Beacon Hills to do something… with some people, but he doesn’t care.

Derek usually locks himself in his bedroom, curling up in his wolf form and waits for the moon’s pull to recede, howling sadly by himself, remembering what it was like to romp around and play with all his sisters and brothers and cousins. It’s never been quite the same, after the fire.

He tried to do something with Cora once, but he’d felt uncomfortable, unable to run with the other wolves, snapping and growling at their unfamiliar scent.

Cora hadn’t invited him out for full moons after that, letting him just stay at home.

Derek remembers Scott inviting him to run with them on his first day, but it seems ages ago now. He can see them from the merry-go-round, all gathered up around Allison, who apparently is winning at an archery booth.

“I’d like to,” Derek says, in a small voice. “It would be nice, but--”

“But _what,_ Derek?”

“I kind of told Scott I wanted to quit,” Derek says quickly.

“And this is why you’ve been weird today,” Cora says, raising her eyebrow at him. “This because of Stiles? I thought you told me it was a good thing, right? You were gonna get to know him and stuff?”

Derek sits up on his seahorse, shaking off the grimy residual scent of all the previous riders. “That was the plan,” he said, watching the fairgrounds spin around them. He looks back at Cora, who looks strangely serious for a woman riding a garishly decorated plastic horse.

“And?” Cora demands when Derek doesn’t say anything else.

“It’s not going to work,” Derek says solemnly.

Cora stares at him for a good long minute, and then the merry-go-round comes to a halt. The other riders are disembarking but she’s still in her seat, giving Derek an incredulous look. “Really? You’re just gonna quit and walk away? What happened?”

Derek sighs. “You didn’t hear what I sounded like this morning, Cora. I didn’t even realize until when I was talking to Scott and telling him-- I-- fuck, I made it all about me. I was just upset and frustrated and angry that I didn’t think this through, that I just thought--”

“Please exit the ride, if you wish to ride again you have to go to the end of the line,” the ride attendant says, glaring at them.

“Of course, sorry, we were distracted,” Cora says. She grabs Derek by the elbow, and they get off the merry-go-round, heading down the walkway towards the other rides and booths. “Okay, go on, you’re not really telling me what happened. Did the sex not go well and you’re mad about that?”

Derek frowns. “No, it was amazing.”

“So--”

“It was just having this incredible, intimate experience with him and then like, waking up and realizing Stiles didn’t want anything else other than sex, and I’d have to keep sleeping with him for work, and it’s gonna hurt more and more every time, and I didn’t want to pretend anymore.” It hurts even now to say it, the reality of the words sinking painfully into Derek’s core as he admits it. Saying it aloud just makes it more real how stupid he’s been. He knew from the start this would end badly, but he wanted to do it anyways, just to see what it was like.

There’s a couple in front of them at one of the game booths, a woman with bright green hair jumping in joy, another woman clapping enthusiastically, a booth attendant frowning as he pulls the dart out of the bullseye target. He presents to the green-haired woman a stuffed bear, which she immediately hands to her girlfriend. She squeals, _“_ Aw, _Amanda!”_ while hugging it appreciatively, and then tucks it under her arm rushes to give her a hug. They share a happy kiss amidst the lights and music of the fair as people walk by.

It’s an endearing tableau of affection, but it makes Derek’s heart ache.

“What do you mean, Stiles doesn’t want anything more than sex, I thought you told me he wanted to take it slow while you guys do the pretend-boyfriends thing, slowly work it up to the real thing,” Cora says, narrowing her eyes.

Derek coughs. “I may have not told you that the first time I asked Stiles on a date, he freaked out and told me he didn’t do relationships at all.”

“And you still signed the contract to film with him exclusively!?”

“I thought we could get to know each other as friends. And that sleeping with him was better than not being with him at all. But it’s worse, it’s like, almost everything I want but can’t have…”

“What did you say to him today? Obviously it’s something stupid, otherwise you wouldn’t be in such a funk about it,” Cora says, crossing her arms.

Derek mumbles softly, feeling guilty and terrible.

Cora punches him in the shoulder. “Derek! You asshole! I cannot believe you said that. Of all the unfair fucking things to expect someone to answer you--”

“I know, I know…”

“Derek, you of all people know what it’s like to be manipulated into something just to please someone else,” Cora says.

Derek knows he’s done and said a lot of things that weren’t _him_ at all, for the sake of keeping his uncle’s business afloat, and he doesn’t really have anything to say for himself right now.

“And then there you are, the idiot who’s just asked someone who you really want to be with to figure out how they feel about you, on the fly--”

Cora makes a disgusted sound, and they walk silently for awhile before she finally pats him on the shoulder. Derek appreciates the comfort. And the tough love. But the comfort is nice, too.

“What did Scott say?” Cora asks.

The worst thing was that Scott didn’t say _anything._ He’d let Derek talk himself to the point of wretched desperation, apologize over and over, and he’d listened to Derek tell him exactly what he said to Stiles, and as soon as Derek had heard the words in the office he’d realized what a stupid, selfish question it was.

Scott had let him talk and talk, and then he offered Derek a tissue. Derek hadn’t even noticed the hot tears sliding down his face, and he takes the tissue, wiping his face in resignation.

It was the expression, really, that did it. Derek felt like he let Scott down, like he took this opportunity given him to work in this amazing place with great people. It’s not even _disappointment_ on Scott’s face; Scott had been sitting on his desk across from Derek, and then he got down to his level, giving him this calm, even-eyed look, like he still wanted to help Derek.

“Are you sure you want to quit?” Scott asked. “What I said before still stands; you still have a place here. Doesn’t mean you have to film with Stiles.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Derek had asked, confused. “I mean, I feel like you should be yelling at me. Stiles is your best friend, right?”

“Do you want me to yell at you?”

Derek shook his head.

“Yeah, it’s not my style. I think you’ve punished yourself enough for today, though. Why don’t we put this whole quitting idea on the backburner, yeah? There’s a fair, and you’re still part of this pack. Hang out for the day and we can talk about this later.”

Scott had just his hand on Derek’s shoulder, patting it gently, and he’d waited with Derek until his eyes weren’t red anymore.

“I would have fired you,” Cora says, when Derek finishes telling her what happened. “For being a dick. But I get it, kinda. I mean, I wouldn’t want to date someone who didn’t want to date me. But the way you went about it--”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m quitting. He doesn’t have to ever see me again,” Derek says firmly.

“What? No! I mean, you should just talk to him, explain your piece. And then you can quit. Otherwise you’re just… running away.”

“Well, if I get a chance,” Derek says.

Cora rolls her eyes. “Coward,” she says, but her tone is light. “I know what you need. And look, there’s a short line for the Screaming Eagle!”

“I don’t know,” Derek says, looking at the ride. “It goes upside down. Are those harnesses?”

“C’mon, let’s get in line,” Cora says, pulling him forward. “It’ll be fun. This is like, the most epic ride in the fair today, we’re really lucky that there isn’t a line right now. I bet the wait will be horrible.”

Derek looks at the people cheering in excitement as the thing spins, lights flashing, and then it speeds up. It looks kind of fun, but Derek isn’t really sure. He’s never been on any of these before, doesn’t know if he’ll like it or not.

“You go, I’ll wait for you,” Derek says.

Cora calls him lame but lets him hold her purse, and Derek finds a nice spot to wait by the petting zoo.

He entertains himself, making friends with a goat who tries to eat his shoelaces, and by the time Cora comes back, hair all askew, Derek has a new goat friend and a pig friend, who is currently squealing happily as he scratches her chin.  

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles is terrible at the dart game (the colors are messing with his eyes), and Allison smokes him at the archery booth. He’s pretty sure he’s not gonna win any of the prizes at the knock-over-the-bottle game either, but he is determined. They’ve been coming to this fair for three years now, and Stiles has always gone home empty handed, but not today.

He spots Derek staring at the wall of stuffed animals pinned up behind the ring toss game over at the end of the aisle. There’s a ridiculously large stuffed teddy bear that has to be at least eight feet tall right in the center of his line of vision, and Derek’s got a smile on his face, like he thinks the thing is cute.

And then Cora is dragging Derek off to get in line for the merry-go-round, and they leave, but Derek gives the bear one last look before he goes.

Stiles walks up to the ring toss, eyeing the bear. It’s gray and fluffy and has the words “I LOVE YOU” written on one of its feet and it’s ridiculously cheesy but it’s never been more clear to him what he wants to do right now.

“I’m going to win this bear,” Stiles announces.

“Nobody’s winning this bear,” the jerk in the booth says, laughing. “I’ve run this game for two years, and I’ve even had people offer to straight up buy Fluffy here from me, but no can do. You have to get all ten rings onto bottles, and one of them has to catch the red bottle.” He raises his eyebrows at Stiles. “You’re welcome to try, though. Just telling you I don’t think you can do it.”

Stiles looks at the bottles churning around the conveyor belt, swishing in the water, as dejected rings float around, having sadly missed their target. The one red bottle in the crowd is in the center of the group of bottles, constantly moving. It really doesn’t seem that difficult. Then again, neither did any of the other games, and Stiles was terrible at those.

Stiles knows he’s being manipulated but he hears the challenge in the guy’s voice and says, “You’re on.”

Stiles pays for a round. Most of his rings land in the water, but one of them does catch the neck of a bottle. Stiles whoops, but the booth attendant guy just laughs. “One ring, this is your prize.” He hands Stiles a packet of stickers. They’re of sheep. Cute sheep, but not what Stiles is looking for. He pockets the stickers anyways.

Stiles buys another round, and this time he gets three rings on the bottles. This wins him a little plushie flower, which gets stuffed in Stiles’ pocket as well.

“Look here,” and he squints at the guy’s nametag-- “Mike, give me a discount or something, because I am dead set on this bear.” Stiles counts out more cash, and he finally gets Mike to agree to a set amount of rings for a hundred bucks.

Stiles’ wrist is getting sore, but he’s getting better at the toss, and finally he figures out if he aims for an inch above eye level, he’s got a better shot at landing the rings on the bottles.

He gets the red bottle, and Stiles does a victory dance. Mike hands him a medium sized bear. “Naw, dude, I win the big one, right?”

“You have to get all ten rings on a bottle within the same turn.”

Stiles grumbles, but he forks over another hundred bucks and keeps tossing rings. He figures out a system: as soon as a ring misses a bottle, he tells Mike he’s starting a new round. He just has to get ten in a row.

Mike seems to catch on that Stiles is getting better, that he’s figured out the trick, and starts up talking incessantly. Stiles ignores him; he’s in a zone now, catching one, two, three… and the red bottle. He doesn’t want to jinx it so he just keeps going, tossing another ring, and it clinks neatly onto another bottle. Stiles inhales. Another. Another.

Mike is saying something rude, but Stiles ignores him, tossing one more ring which catches the neck of a bottle, sliding down the neck. The next ring lands a bottle as well, and Stiles takes a sharp breath, tossing the tenth.

It catches on a lip of a bottle on its side, and for a second Stiles is afraid it’s about to fall off but then it drops onto the bottleneck.

Stiles stares as Mike starts cursing, and then he whoops in joy, throwing his arms in the air, dancing wildly. “I WON!” he yells, startling the couple at the next booth.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike grumbles.

“The bear, the bear, I get the bear,” Stiles chants gleefully, watching Mike take the bear down from the display.

It’s heavier than Stiles expected, and ridiculously huge bear is thrust grudgingly into his arm by Mike, and Stiles is stumbling away, the bear blocking his vision. Jesus. The thing is taller than he is, and Stiles can barely get a grip around it because it’s so wide. He settles by mashing his face into the soft grey fur, peering around the bear’s neck as its head flops atop Stiles’ head.

He knows he looks stupid, but he can’t help how giddy and excited he is. He’s never won a thing before at this fair, ever!

“Scott!” Stiles calls out, hoping he’s nearby. Or at least his super werewolf-hearing will pick up how much trouble Stiles is having walking around with this thing. They can probably head back to the parking lot together to stash the thing in Allison’s car. Or better yet, Scott can help him find Derek and then he can carry the bear for the rest of the day. It’s what you do with prizes people win for you, right?

Stiles tentatively walks through the crowd, people laughing and getting out of his way. It takes a few minutes, and then Scott’s voice is in front of him.

“Dude, you won! That bear is ginormous!” Scott says, impressed.

“Yeah, I know!” Stiles says. He shakes the bear proudly at Scott, and is a little disappointed that he can’t see the expression on Scott’s face right now. He’s pretty sure it’s full of awe at Stiles’ ring-throwing skills.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Scott asks, peeping around the bear to look at Stiles. “I don’t even think it would fit in your doorway.”

“Give it to Derek,” Stiles says automatically. “He was looking at it earlier, so I figured it was something he wanted. Where is he?”

“I think he and Cora went to go on some rides. Allison wants to go on the Ferris Wheel, though. She’s in line with Danny and Jackson… oh! She just texted me and said the line’s moving quickly. Let’s go find them,” Scott says.

With Scott’s help, carrying the bear shouldn’t be difficult at all, except for some reason Stiles _likes_ carrying it. He’s enjoying the attention from the other fairgoers whose eyes widen when he walks by, and laughs to himself with a little girl drops her ice cream cone in shock when she sees him walk past with the bear.

Scott pulls Stiles away before he can say something lame like, _One day child, you too will have the power to spend ludicrous amounts of money to win a stuffed creature that you may then present to your …_

“Derek!”

Stiles spots him, just beyond the fringe of the fuzzy teddy bear keeps falling onto his chest. Derek waves at him and Scott, following Cora to where they’re standing, and Stiles realizes he probably just looks like a walking bear with legs.

“Hey, Scott… Stiles, that you under there?” Cora asks, amused.

“Yeah! I won a prize for like the first time ever!” Stiles shakes the bear triumphantly.

“We’re being saved a spot in line for the Ferris Wheel, we should go,” Scott says, starting to lead the way.

Cora starts telling Scott about this awesome ride she was just on, a Screaming something or other, and Stiles waddles after them as best he can, hoping he isn’t gonna bump into anyone.

“Here, you’re fine, just keep walking straight ahead, I’ll make sure no one’s in front of you,” Derek says softly by his side. “Or I can carry it for you, if you want.”

“Really? I mean, that’ll be great,” Stiles says, pushing the bear towards Derek. He bites back the “since I planned to give it to you anyways” that’s on the tip of his tongue, suddenly nervous about the whole bear-gift-giving situation. What if like Derek had wanted the bear but he doesn’t want it from _Stiles_? That would be awkward, right?

Derek holds onto the bear, and they walk silently behind Cora and Scott until they get to the line for the Ferris Wheel. Danny waves brightly at them, and they all get in line, everyone talking at once.

At least no one seems to be making a comment about the bear, since it apparently seems like they’ve joined in the middle of a rousing discussion about _Love Actually._

“It’s totally a romantic movie, okay, I should know, I only watched it a bajillion times during the holiday season when I was with Lydia,” Jackson is saying crossly.

“No way, it’s a movie about a bunch of fucked up relationships,” Cora retorts, crossing her arms.

Danny is offering up examples of some of the relationships in the movie that are heartwarming, and Cora shakes her head. “Nope, the only sweet people in that movie are the ones who met doing porn,” she says, which causes everyone to eye each other before they start laughing.

“You gonna weigh in on this?” Stiles asks Derek, who is currently pressing his face into the bear. “You like the romcoms, right?”

“Nah, Cora’s on the warpath. She hates the movie because I love it and make her watch it with me every Christmas,” Derek says, shrugging. “I mean I get what she’s saying that it’s not necessarily a _happy_ movie, but it’s cute. In a bittersweet way.”

The line starts moving again, the ride attendant seating people and sending their carriage up, seating more.

They had all been intending to take up two of the round carriages intended for four, splitting with their entire group, but then Cora and Jackson were in the middle of an argument (“No, the author and the girl with the language difference were cute,” Jackson had said.” “Nope, they can’t even communicate! Do not be fooled by hot people and swelling music!”) and Danny was rolling his eyes at the both of them, and the three of them missed boarding the carriage that Scott and Allison just got on.

Stiles wasn’t paying attention, was watching this kid in line behind him eat a funnel cake and thinking about getting one later for himself, so he misses it when Cora, Jackson and Danny board the carriage ahead of them and the ride attendant mistakes Derek’s hesitation and Stiles obviously not paying attention as them not being part of the group.

“Um,” Derek says awkwardly.

The Ferris Wheel turns, and Stiles can see Scott’s guilty expression, mouthing ‘sorry!’ at Stiles. Allison gives him a thumbs up, and then their carriage moves out of view as the wheel moves them up.

“Next,” the ride attendant announces.

Derek looks at Stiles, and the bear facing gives him is smiling expectantly in a bear-y way, so Stiles just says, “Uh, if you don’t want to, we can go do something else. Or wait for everyone.”

“Do you…?”

The girl behind them is tapping her foot impatiently.

“I wanna go on a Ferris Wheel ride with you, Derek Hale,” Stiles says.

The ride attendant doesn’t even blink when they climb into the carriage, Stiles, Derek, and the bear, who gets his own seat.

The little door to their carriages shuts, and the wheel spins them around, jaunty music playing.

Stiles can see Cora’s feet in the carriage above them, between Jackson and Danny’s feet, and they’re laughing, talking about something Stiles can’t make out, but they’re clearly having a good time.

Stiles had taken the seat across from Derek in the circular cart, not wanting to intrude on his space, but now he’s wondering if this was a good idea, as it puts him in direct eye contact with Derek for the whole ride.

He should say something, right? Like this is the first time they’ve been alone since the morning.

“Are you having a good time?” Stiles says, words tumbling quickly. “This year’s pretty good, I mean I haven’t seen the fried Twinkies yet but I’m sure it’s still out there... I mean we do this every year, and it’s nice to have you and Cora here--”

“I am. Having a good time,” Derek says, taking a deep breath. “I um, I’m glad I came along.”

“I’m glad too,” Stiles says softly, thinking about the alternative. “I mean, I don’t want you to quit but --”

“I’m sorry,” Derek blurts out.

“What? I should be--”

“No, you really shouldn’t. I was being a jerk, asking you like that. Just because I got hung up on what could be and like… I don’t, I don’t expect you to…” Derek says, just as Stiles starts to apologize as well. There’s a moment where they try to talk over each other, and then stop, and Stiles has to giggle at the situation.

The Ferris Wheel halts, and they’re suspended in the air, looking above the fairgrounds. It’s a pretty view, just lights and colors and people walking and laughing and talking and eating, enjoying each other’s company. The lights of the wheel are just lit up, and the sun is setting, casting a golden sheen over everything, and Derek’s skin looks warm and soft in the light.

“You go first,” Derek says, taking one of the bear’s paws in his hand, squeezing it.

Stiles, ever the constant fidget-er, takes the other paw, holding it in his hands and turning it over while he talks. “Okay, so maybe I have more information about myself now, so I uh, I can’t really help the way I feel, I’ve never really wanted to start a relationship with someone, you know?” The words are tumbling quickly out of him, and Stiles is a talker by nature but he’s also really unsure right now. "The last time I even liked the guy I was sleeping with, I didn't even want to cuddle. Like it always feels weird to me? And I don’t wanna lead someone on, you know, like then they’d wanna do more stuff. But with you it's like -- I don't know. I just..." He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his jittery nerves. Derek’s staring straight ahead, squeezing the bear’s paw tightly, and Stiles belatedly realizes, they’re kind of holding hands, albeit transitively through the bear.

Derek seems to pick up on it too, looking at Stiles’ fingers curled around the bear’s paw, but he doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head like he’s listening intently.

“You just… what?” he offers, but it isn’t pressing.

Stiles shuffles a little closer as their carriage whirs to life again, swaying slightly in the wind as it moves to the top of the Ferris Wheel. “Look, Derek, what I wanna say is, what I want to do… with you… it’s all new to me. I mean, all my life I’ve been seeing it, I know what it is, you know, my parents being stupidly in love with each other, books and movies, even all the damn comics I read, there are romantic subplots. And I know there’s a happily ever after to move towards, I just … don’t know how to get there.”

Derek blinks a little in surprise. “You want to do that...with me,” he says.

“Yeah. I don’t really know where to start, though? Like before today I never even thought I’d like fall in love, ever. Just thought it was something that was wrong with me, that I was broken, really,” Stiles says, poking the bear’s paw with his finger for the lack of something better to do with his hands.

“Oh, Stiles,” Derek says, softly.

Stiles starts talking again before Derek tries to say anything comforting. “But, you know, like I don’t have a frame of reference like, what to do in a relationship at all. Like I figured people just kind of knew, like Scott and Allison, they’ve always been amazing to each other? And somehow they’re like, romancing another person together and it’s working out well for them?”

The carriage stops, music chiming merrily as the sun dips below the horizon. “I mean, I’ve always been uncomfortable if whoever I was fucking wanted to do more than that, like nothing against them as a person but like… I thought it was something to do with my personality but it really isn’t. And it was a relief really to figure it out, because…”

Stiles realizes he’s rambling, but Derek seems to be listening attentively nonetheless.

Deep breath, inhale for seven, exhale for five. Stiles does it automatically, and even though he’s prepared himself for a panic attack he seems remarkably calm right now, and in the moment, this is a lot less scary than he thought it would be. “Anyways, I’m trying to say I’m demiromantic.”

Stiles waits for Derek to give him a confused look or something, and he’s about to pull his phone out to explain when Derek just says, “Oh, okay,” as he leans against the carriage frame. He waits, like to see if Stiles is gonna say anything else, but Stiles just makes an open gesture with his hands. “I totally understand,” Derek says, swallowing. “I am really sorry about pressuring you, though. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, and it was wrong. I was frustrated because I really like you, and I thought it was going to hurt so much if I stayed and... you’ve got nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have expected anything of you in the first place, I just wanted to get to know you so badly.”

“Do you still?” Stiles asks.

Derek eyes light up. “Of course.”

“Do you wanna try again?” Stiles asks, his heart beating so loudly in his own chest it feels like he might burst.

“You want to... date me,” Derek says, slowly.

“I do,” Stiles replies. “I mean, we should go slow, though, I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’d like that,” Derek says, giving him a small smile. “Do we still have to have sex for the studio?” he adds in a worried voice.

“Ah, we can figure that out later,” Stiles says, grinning. It’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest, and he can see that Derek feels the same, all the tenseness in his body disappearing. “The bear is for you, you know. I saw you looking at it and wanted to win it for you.”

“I--what-- Really?” Derek looks from the Stiles to the bear and back to Stiles, a happy, flustered expression on his face that makes all the time and money winning the darn thing worth it. “Stiles--” Derek drapes his arms over the bear, squeezing it tightly. “I really want to hug you, but I know that you’re probably not comfortable with that but--”

Stiles steps forward, the carriage tilting as the weight shifts, and he throws his arms around Derek’s shoulders. Derek is startled but soon recovers, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and pulling him close, resting his head on Stiles’ shoulder. It feels so good, to be enveloped in his arms like this, and Stiles sighs when he pulls away. Derek is beaming at him, looking so happy and adorable that it feels natural for Stiles to lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

It should be the most innocuous kiss Stiles has ever had in his life; chaste and close-mouthed, a simple meeting of lips, but instead it’s warm and perfect, making Stiles feel like a spark has been lit inside him, and it feels like a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT [THIS ADORABLE FANART OF THE BEAR](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/108283355620/besieged-infection-for-carries-fic-alls-fair) AT THE FERRIS WHEEL. 
> 
> Do you want a visual on the bear? Yeeeeah you do! I imagine it to look like [ this,](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/104823041580) but you get the idea. Maybe it's a bit smaller. That thing is huge. ALSO, this is gonna be an embed image in the next chapter (not really nsfw, but there are like, bare thighs and it's rather suggestive), but I really wanted to share it now. It's [Derek cuddling at home with the bear](http://betabutt.tumblr.com/post/103234803632) because it smells like Stiles, awww.


	12. I Could Lose Control

Derek watches the sun dip behind the mountains, a dusky twilight falling softly upon them as Cora’s Jeep Cherokee trundles up the Angeles Crest Highway. He can feel the pull of the moon, the blood rising hot inside him already, making him nervous. It’s the first time in a long, long, while that he’s even been outside on a full moon, and Derek isn’t sure if he’s more anxious for himself or that this is with Scott’s pack.

“Chill out, you’re stinking up the car with your nerves,” Cora says, thrumming the steering wheel with her fingers.

“Do you know who all… or…” Derek mumbles awkwardly. He knows Scott probably has more wolves in his pack, since the campground reservation is huge, but the only other werewolf he’s met at _True Alpha Studios_ has been Jackson.

“Haven’t met any of them, but I’ve talked to Liam, he’s is a total sweetheart. He’s Scott’s beta.”

“He only has one? Scott told me he booked the whole campground.”

“Well, Liam’s the only one actually bitten by Scott. He’s kind of the baby of the group, he’s a freshman in college. Oh, and we’re not supposed to talk porn around him, apparently he really wants to follow Scott in his footsteps but Scott is adamant he finishes school before he decides on anything. It’s kind of adorable, actually.” Cora smiles. Clearly she’s not nervous at all. Isn’t she worried this Liam character obviously holds a lot of sway with Scott, and it’s really important they all get along--

Wait. Cora’s already talked to him, they have a rapport. It’s Derek who has to make sure he makes a good impression on this young beta, what if Liam doesn’t like Derek--

“And I think the other werewolves are kind of just… adopted by Scott? He mentioned a bunch of people he’s cool with that may or may not show up. They sound like a fun bunch, though,” Cora says. “Are you okay? You really smell stressed out now.”

Derek takes a deep breath. “No, I can do this. You were right, I shouldn’t be spending full moons locked up in my bedroom. This is a good thing.”

“I know, right?” Cora says supportively, then furrows her brow in worry. “Although springing you all on these new people might be a bit much. Look, there’s still time before moonrise. I can drive you back home, and you can meet up with Erica, Isaac and Boyd. They usually run down Venice Beach, right?”

“No, Erica mentioned they were doing something different this month,” Derek says, and then Cora’s pulling into the parking lot, and Scott is waving at them happily, and well, it’s too late _now_ to back out.

“Derek! Cora! So happy you guys made it,” Scott says, poking his head into Derek’s open window as Cora parks the car. He hands Derek a tan placard, beaming at them and radiating excitement. “You guys were kind of last minute, but Ranger Lee knows me, it’s all cool. Just put McCall party on that line, fill the rest out and hand it in and you’re all set. Don’t have to worry about locking your car or anything, it’s just us here.”

Cora whistles in appreciation when they get out of the car. It’s not yet night, but the view is spectacular, looking into the Los Angeles basin, the lights twinkling merrily in the distance, dwarfed by the tall trees surrounding them. The air feels crisp and clean, and Derek takes a deep breath, his body taking in the freshness of the leaves blowing by, the dirt under his feet, and the woodsy, earthy scent all around.

It’s grounding and unexpectedly pleasant. Derek finds a pencil in Cora’s glove compartment and fills out the form quickly, hesitating when he’s realized he started to write Laura’s name and phone number for emergency contact. It’s an automatic reflex, but Derek stops when he realizes. Laura’s in New York, there would be little she could do from across the country if there was some sort of mishap tonight. Besides, she would be tied up in her own full moon plans. This sort of thing is usually reserved for a  non-werewolf pack member, someone you could trust--

“Hey, Derek, we’re heading up the trail, it can be a little tricky if you’re just following by scent, I’ve kind of been all over the area for the past few hours--”

“Sure, I’ll be right there,” Derek says. He scribbles Stiles’ name and phone number quickly, and then stuffs the form into the locked registration box.

 

* * *

 

“Derek?!” A blonde blur rushes towards him and envelops him in a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you never do full moons outside!”

“Hey, Erica,” Derek says, surprised, and he can see Isaac and Boyd walking towards him as well. “What are _you_ guys doing here?”

Isaac grins. “Scott invited me, and I said I always do full moons with these two nerds, so he told me to bring ‘em along.”

“The more the merrier!” Scott says, bumping shoulders with Isaac fondly.

By the time the moon appears high in the sky, Derek feels like he’s done more socializing in the last hour than in the last six months, but it doesn’t feel tedious or exhaustive as it normally does when Derek’s meeting strangers for the first time. It’s nice, actually. There’s another Alpha who Scott is friendly with named Satomi, who apparently knew Derek’s mother many years ago, and Derek ends up having a pleasant conversation with her. Satomi and Scott have been doing full moon runs in this area for years, apparently.

And then the moon is up, and everyone starts shifting, getting settled in their wolf forms. Howls and excited yips are heard through the air, and the feeling of excitement is catching.

Derek is one of the last to transform. Scott had shifted as soon as the moon was visible in the sky, a majestic tawny wolf that’s currently bounding playfully around a younger gray wolf. Liam, Derek’s sure, he remembers the earnest, happy scent from when they were introduced later.

Cora is already play-wrestling with Erica, and Isaac is headbutting Boyd, who is just tolerating it and staring up in the sky. It’s really not that different than when they’re human.

Derek closes his eyes, lets the pull of the moon draw him forward. Every month he’s committed himself to enduring this forced shift, the lack of control, feeling trapped as a wolf, unable to turn back until the moon sets.

But tonight is different.

Satomi is the last one on two legs, looking approvingly at Derek’s form. “You look so much like your mother did,” she says solemnly.

Derek can only nod his head gratefully.

And they’re off.

It’s a rush of sensation, running through the woods like this, a frenzy of _chaserunplayfightchasechaseDEERchaserunplaychase,_ and Derek forgets that he hates full moons when he realizes his tongue is lolling out of his mouth in amusement, watching Scott break up a psuedo-fight between Liam and one of Satomi’s betas, a Beck or Brett something.

Derek catches the scent of the deer first, and he dashes off after it, Scott racing next to him. They bring the deer down easily together, and Scott howls triumphantly, and Derek doesn’t hesitate to add his voice. One by one everyone joins in, until the night is filled howls.

 

* * *

 

Derek wakes up, sprawled out on his back, the morning sun warming his face and bare skin. He feels sleepy and a little sore, the kind of ache from a good workout. Derek opens his eyes slowly, adjusting to the light. He’s in the middle of what was probably a huge puppy pile last night when they all just fell asleep, exhausted after chasing each other through the woods for hours.

Flopped over Derek’s ankle is Erica, snoring away, Boyd spooning her from behind. Liam is snoozing quietly, curled up behind Scott. It kind of looks like they fell asleep with Scott giving him a piggyback ride or something. Isaac is draped over Scott’s lap like a blanket, and Cora is already dressed, drinking hot coffee from a thermos, talking and laughing with Satomi over by the picnic tables. There are a few more people Derek doesn’t quite remember the names of, but no one here feels like a stranger at all.

Scott blinks at him as he wakes up. They’re all covered in dirt and twigs and leaves and who knows what else, but he catches Derek’s eye and smiles. “Hey. Thanks for being here.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Derek says. He feels like he should probably say more, but he doesn’t know how to describe the warm, contented feeling of _pack_ that surrounds him. Scott seems to understand though, and looks like he’s about to go back to sleep, carding his fingers in Isaac’s hair.

Derek disentangles himself without waking anyone up, and manages to scrounge up a spare set of clothes from Cora’s car, getting dressed in a daze. The past few years his post full moons have always been painful and difficult to wake up from, the lingering after effects dragging on for a few days. Derek feels a little moon-drunk still, in a good, relaxed way, though.

Cora hands him a cup of the instant Satomi’s brewed on her camp stove. “So?”

Derek just gives her a wordless look, and Cora knows right away. She’ll probably rub an “I told you so” in his face later, but for now she just smiles, bumps him affectionately with her hip, and they watch the sun rise together.

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

“For the last time, Stiles, we’re gonna be late!”

“There isn’t a set _time_ to arrive for the barbeque, Allison,” Stiles retorts testily, stripping out of his t-shirt. He grabs another one out of his closet, pulling it on and eyeing himself in the mirror. “We’re bringing all the food, therefore the party don’t start till we walk in.”

“Stiles, seriously,” Allison says, barging into his bedroom. She grabs the nearest t-shirt and shakes it at Stiles. “It’ll take us at least an hour to get up the mountain, we don’t have time for you to pretty yourself up.”

Stiles huffs at the t-shirt, but takes it anyways. He yanks it on, following her out the door. Jackson is pulling a cooler out of the trunk of Danny’s car, struggling a little with the weight. “Here, you’ve got more trunk space,” he says, jerking his head at Stiles’ Jeep.

“You okay?” Stiles asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Shut up, I just wanted to see what it was like without the pack,” Jackson snarks back. “I feel a little queasy, but I definitely proved that IT CAN BE DONE.”

Danny rolls his eyes from the driver’s seat.

It takes them an hour more or playing tetris with all the barbeque supplies, loading up on gas, and purchasing an extra thing of ice before the two cars are headed up towards Mt. Wilson.

They pull into the campground a little past noon. Satomi’s wife Michelle is there and grilling burgers already, which Allison of course points out to Stiles, mouthing the word “late.” The barbeque gets going, Stiles gets to give baby wolf Liam a few noogies, and it’s officially a party. Great food, drinks, and the werewolves are all post moon blissed out, all touchy-feely and hilarious. There’s a great story going around about this deer that Scott and Derek took down together that needs repeating. And acted out, of course, because Stiles is definitely a visual learner.

Derek seems to be enjoying the party, but also seems a bit overwhelmed. Stiles sits down next to him, nudging him gently on the shoulder. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asks softly.

“Good, just… it’s a lot of people,” Derek says. “I normally don’t…”

“Ah, need to recharge, huh,” Stiles says. Derek’s definitely an introvert if he ever saw one. “You gonna stay for tonight and tomorrow? I just heard Cora telling Satomi how excited she was for the catch of the flag game tonight.”

“You guys do this for the _whole_ weekend?” Derek’s eyes widen.

Stiles chuckles a little. He glances over at the other end of the table, where Cora is deep in conversation with one of the Ito twins. “Yeah. First full moon is when Scott says everyone goes all wolfy out, and then from then on it’s just kind of optional and fun. Stress relief, you know? And then family and friends and stuff come up and hang out. It’s a good time. It can get pretty rowdy, though.”

Derek bites his lip, and his unsure expression is really all it takes.

“Wanna get out of here?” Stiles asks.

Derek breathes a sigh of relief and nods. They get up from the table, and Stiles manages to catch Scott’s gaze briefly and he mouths, “Taking Derek home.” Scott gives him a thumbs up, and then all that’s left to do is grab Derek’s stuff out of Cora’s car.

The ride back down to the city is silent, and Derek looks close to nodding off. Stiles has had plenty of experience seeing werewolves after a thorough full moon, but Derek looks exhausted. Happy, though. But exhausted nonetheless.

They’re on the freeway, almost back to the studio when Stiles realizes he doesn’t know where Derek lives. Would it be too forward to take Derek back to his place? They _are_ taking it slow. It would probably give Derek the wrong idea, like Stiles just wants in his pants right now or something.

Stiles doesn’t know where Derek lives, either, and doesn’t feel entirely comfortable just dropping him off and leaving. He knows Scott has always planned multi-day full moon trips for his pack because immediately after there’s always that need for tactility and comfort. The last thing Derek needs right now is to be just left alone.

Derek is currently alternating between looking dazedly at Stiles, out the window, and his eyes fluttering closed, then open, like he’s struggling to stay awake.

“Hey, uh, I would ask you over to my place or we could go to yours and we could hang out, but I get the feeling that might be like, too much pressure? And like seriously, no pressure at all. I think you really just wanna sleep, dude.”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “You can just drop me off, I don’t mind.”

“Psh, I’m not a werewolf and I can tell that was a lie. I know what you need right now, and it’s sleep and being near comfy things and smelly good things and touching things or people you like so…”

The corners of Derek’s lips tilt up and he looks over at Stiles expectantly.

“Alright,” Stiles says, ignoring the happy flop his stomach is doing. “Oh hey, there’s a bed at the studio that already smells like us, I don’t know if you wanna go there? If that’s a place that sounds good right now?”

Derek reaches over and takes Stiles’ hand, interlacing their fingers together. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Stiles hums in agreement, glad there’s a plan. He takes the exit and drives them to the studio. The building is silent when he unlocks the front door, and Derek sleepily follows him upstairs, and they head to their bedroom set.

Derek wastes no time getting undressed, tossing his clothes carelessly to the floor, and tumbling naked gracelessly into the bed.

Stiles hesitates for only a second, taking off his shirt and stepping out of his jeans, then Derek makes grabby hands at him. Stiles laughs as Derek pulls him into the bed, pressing his face into his neck and inhaling deeply.

“Is this okay? I just want to hold you,” Derek says softly. “Unless you want…” his hand ventures towards Stiles’ boxers.

Stiles turns over, pinning Derek to the bed, laying on top of him. “Just go to sleep, Derek,” Stiles says gently. “I don’t need anything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus preview of next chapter [ here. ](http://teenwoofs.com/bleep/tas9.jpg)


	13. We're On A Ship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made graphics to go with this chapter! Woo! Some of the images are linked to within the text. Thank you to maichan808 for hosting the larger images for me! \\(^_^)/

Derek steps into the lounge, humming quietly to himself. There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, and he refills his mug, trying to figure out what song is stuck in his head. Opening the refrigerator, he finds a brand new bottle of his favorite hazelnut coffee creamer with a post-it declaring, “For Derek, because I know you have a sweet tooth. Also because Erica used the rest of it last night when we made cocktails.” Underneath, on another post-it in Erica’s handwriting is “NO WAY STILES WAS THE ONE WHO WANTED TO USE IT HE SAID DEREK’S CREAM WAS THE BEST.”

Stiles’ response is on another post-it, stuck under the second, reading, “That’s not what I meant and you know it. For reference, Derek’s cream _is--_ ”

There is more back-and-forth between Erica and Stiles on the post-its, and Derek chuckles to himself as he pours some into his coffee.

The last few weeks have been kind of a whirlwind of activity, especially at the studio. With the release of special short five minute increments of the ice-skating video, the blowjobs in the park video, and then several teasers of their bedroom video, the number of paid subscriptions to _True Alpha Studios_ skyrocketed. The day the knotting scene went online the obscene amount of web traffic crashed the servers, and Scott ended upgrading their service that very same day.

It wasn’t just Stiles’ and Derek’s scenes, although that had been the draw. Many of Scott and Allison’s videos were getting numerous hits on their knotting scenes as well, and the many emails and comments flooding in were overwhelmingly in support of the style and the romantic portrayal of knotting.

Allison’s idea to stagger the release of the footage they had of Stiles and Derek together had been a financial stroke of genius. They haven’t even had to film another sex scene yet (“When you’re ready,” Scott had said.) Instead, Derek and Stiles had been tasked with “being cute” on Twitter and Instagram. Derek hadn’t ever really handled social media before at all, but his relative silence wasn't even an issue at all, with Stiles’ many tweets a day about obscure, strange things like what color boxers he was wearing, what movies he was interested in watching, and apparently he had “conversations” with fans sometimes, and even the occasional celebrity.

Everyone at _True Alpha Studios_ has accounts, and they all regularly tagged each other (Derek still doesn’t understand what this means) in stuff. The response to Derek’s first tweet, _Stiles says I have to say something, so hello_ , had made Derek drop his phone when it started pinging repeatedly with notifications, making Stiles laugh until he showed Derek how to turn it off.

Derek pours some creamer into his coffee, stirring it with a spoon, smiling to himself. He sets the creamer down on the counter and snaps a picture of it next to his coffee, Stiles’ first note about Derek’s sweet tooth visible. Derek knows how to tweet photos (and tag people too!) now, and he’s sure Stiles would be proud of him for doing something on his own. He pulls up the app and types: _He knows me well :)_

Derek posts the photo, puts the creamer back in the fridge, and sips his coffee, taking a deep, contented breath.

 

He passes by the bulletin board, smiling at the tickets from the fair pinned up in the corner, and at the [permit](https://38.media.tumblr.com/9ac1e4f6f3ce8c242148ebe5338a55c4/tumblr_nh0xh8wWRw1snaca2o1_500.png) from Mt. Wilson at their last full moon run. Scott had tacked that up with a post-it that read, “Derek’s first full moon with us!!”

Derek drinks his coffee, looking to the right at the notes between him and Stiles that had followed after the permit had gone up. Stiles had wanted to know why Derek had put him down as his emergency contact, and it wasn’t something he had been really able to explain on a post-it.

“I can… I can be that for you,” Stiles had explained when Derek had pulled him aside to talk about what this, _them,_ had meant to him. “Yeah. That’s what we’re doing, right?”

Derek traces an amused hand over the post-it where Stiles had written a response after that conversation, offering a number of ridiculous suggestions for nicknames. “People in relationships,” Stiles had wrote.

Derek feels warm and content, and it’s not because of the coffee.

He looks proudly at [Scott’s magazine cover](https://31.media.tumblr.com/f551a28287cbcb0a5f1228b9fc020745/tumblr_inline_nh9q2gaCIt1rjbkfy.png) for _Werewolf Advocate_. It’s been a ridiculously good few weeks for the studio; with influx of income from all the new subscribers, Scott had been working nonstop on his script for his pirate epic, and it had even gotten the attention of a producer in Hollywood who had been very interested in bringing it to a mainstream audience.

One of the best parts had definitely been bringing Isaac, Erica, and Boyd onto the team. They get on ridiculously well with everyone, and the studio’s always alight with the sound of bright laughter and familiar people.

Derek snorts when he sees the corner of the bulletin board, there are a few pages ripped from different issues of _Adult Video News_ magazine. There’s one that [appeared right after the fair](https://31.media.tumblr.com/90408908c2bf1542d428be0ac03b6ed6/tumblr_inline_nh9q1aV3De1rjbkfy.png), written by that reporter who ran into them, and they used that lame photo of Derek from the worst photoshoot where they kept smearing him with oil.

Next to it is the article they ran when [Isaac, Erica and Boyd had quit Hale House](https://31.media.tumblr.com/78469be883b2e19150a8d7c520952629/tumblr_inline_nh9q10xP5i1rjbkfy.png). Apparently Peter had not been happy at all. Derek’s reading Jackson’s indignant note demanding to know where the rest of the article is describing Peter’s meltdown, when he’s distracted by something _new_ on the bulletin board.

It’s not pinned to the board, per se, but just a magazine flipped open, propped up on the board’s frame.

 

“What the…” Derek mutters. It’s his face on the magazine spread, from a photoshoot he did when trying out looks for his application to _True Alpha Studios,_ but Cora had decided the black and white spread with the coffee and the sweater and everything had been better. He isn’t that surprised by the use of the photo of him in the garage in the motorcycles for an interview, Cora had mentioned she had wrote another thing to help rebrand his image.

So Derek had known about those photos.

What is surprising to him is the one taking up the entire left page, a photo of him in his bedroom at the apartment he and Cora shared, Derek cuddling the bear Stiles had won him. He’s pretty sure he was wearing boxers at the time, and was getting ready to go to bed, and Cora had walked in and started laughing at him.

“Really, Derek? You’re gonna sleep with the bear?”

“Shut up.”

“Uh huh,” Cora had said, grinning. “This is adorable. Here, lean back, I’m gonna get a pic and send it to Stiles.”

“No, no, don’t, we _just_ decided to start over, you can’t, it’ll freak him out,” Derek had said.

“Oh my God, you’re turning bright red, ahaha, this is gonna be great,” Cora said, snickering, and Derek pulled the blanket up over his face in embarrassment. He heard the camera on Cora’s phone click, and then he stared balefully at her. “Don’t worry, bro. I won’t send it to Stiles.”

Derek stares at the magazine. No way. This was so much worse.

“Cora!” Derek calls out, grabbing the magazine. He dashes out of the lounge room, heading for her office. He gets stopped before he even gets there when Stiles pops into the hallway, waving his own copy of the magazine.

“Derek! You kept my bear!” Stiles exclaims, grabbing Derek by the shoulders.

“Of course I kept the bear,” Derek says. “What did you think I would do with it?”

“I dunno, who keeps an eight-foot bear?”

“Stiles, you spent a lot of time and effort to win it for me, of course I would keep it,” Derek says, shaking his head.

“This isn’t from our set, where is this?” Stiles points at the picture.

“That is my bedroom,” Derek says, just as Cora opens her office door, “Where someone took a photo and promised not to--”

“Are you sleeping with the bear?” Stiles asks, eyes lighting up. “Please tell me that’s what’s happening here.”

“He sleeps with the bear,” Cora says from behind Stiles, folding her arms.

Derek doesn’t have time to glare at her because Stiles is fixing his gaze on him, looking for confirmation, so Derek just nods. “Yeah, I uh… it smells like you. It’s almost as nice as cuddling with y--”

Stiles surprises him by kissing him soundly on the mouth, pressing him into the wall.

The magazine slips from Derek’s hands as he kisses Stiles back, reaching around to cup the back of Stiles’ head, melting into the warmth of his lips.

In the background he can hear Cora snorting and closing her office door, saying, “Thank me later, losers.”

 

* * *

 

It’s the second staff meeting since they’ve hired Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, but it’s already descended into chaos, the plans for brainstorming for new video ideas having been totally derailed because Erica has insisted she recognizes Jackson from somewhere.

“Yeah, my videos are pretty amazing,” Jackson says proudly. “I’m quite popular, I’ve got a huge--”

“No, it’s definitely not porn,” Erica says, which leads to Jackson bringing up everything else he’s ever done where Erica could have seen him before.

“I also used to be a model. I was in a few music videos, too.” Jackson muses, which starts a discussion about music videos and who else has had a cameo in what. Danny wins, apparently, having starred as an extra in eight different music videos.

Jackson rolls his eyes, smirking when Danny makes a joke, and then Erica suddenly shrieks. “Ahh! There it is! I knew it, you’re Power Bottom!” she says with delight.

Derek splutters, and Scott and Stiles shoot each other amused looks.

Jackson looks horrified. “No way, not this again, there is no way that you’re recognizing me from one stupid blog post.”

“Yup,” Erica says.

“What’s he talking about?” Boyd asks.

“I’ll find it for you, it’s hilarious,” Stiles says, grabbing a laptop. “I know Danny has it bookmarked in his funny folder…. here!”

Stiles pulls up [the page](http://betabutt.tumblr.com/post/125231419927/whats-the-difference-between-a-bottom-and-a-power) for everyone to see. 

“Oh my God, what is that?” Isaac asks, and Stiles grins, turning the laptop around so they can see. It’s devastatingly short, just a simple question and answer.

“What’s the difference between a bottom and a power bottom?” Boyd reads aloud.

The blogger had posted two moving gifs: one of a guy smiling sweetly at the camera, and the second is Jackson, doing his trademark smirk.

“It’s just this one blog post that got really popular,” Scott says, shaking his head. “There was a big bump in downloads of one of Danny and Jackson’s videos for awhile after that. Can we focus?”

There is more stuff in Danny’s “funny” folder, and Stiles is about to see what else is in there when Scott gives him a look, and Stiles sighs and shuts the laptop. “Okay, okay, back to business,” he says.

Scott smiles appreciatively at him. “Okay, as I was saying, I’ve finished writing the script for our movie,” he says proudly.

Stiles whoops and cheers as Scott starts passing out scripts, handing one out to everyone.

“Shiver Me Timbers?” Cora reads, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s a working title,” Allison says, smiling at Scott.

“What’s this I hear about us not getting to actually fuck anyone in the movie?” Jackson says, flipping through his script.

“Chill out, Jackson,” Scott says. “We are making two versions, basically, one that is going to be released in theaters, with a R-rating, and the extended version, which will be full-frontal as usual, and available on our website for download. Both will be out on DVD. But I’m hoping that people who enjoyed the movie for the plot and want to see the characters come to--”

“Or just come in general,” Isaac says, getting a fond smile from Scott.

“What I mean is, this is our chance to create a piece of media that represents werewolves the way we want to be seen,” Scott says passionately. “And it will be fun, and it’s our chance to show mainstream Hollywood what we can do with a small studio. This year we’ve been good about keeping serious plot element to all of our videos-- relationship building, referencing past videos, bringing the viewer along in the journey of each couple. We can do more. This is going to be a full-length movie, and it’s going to be amazing.”

Stiles starts cheering first, clapping uproariously, and Derek catches his eye, clapping with him, and soon the whole room is filled with the loud, raucous sound of support.

 

* * *

 

Since Stiles and Derek are the only ones not filming a new video every week, they get put to the task of location scouting. Derek is driving, the Camaro gliding by as they pull off the freeway and into the harbor.

Stiles has the script propped open in his lap, shaking his head at the title. “Shiver Me Timbers,” he says, snorting. “I’ll shiver your timber,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at Derek.

“That’s not a line in the script,” Derek says, parking the car.

“Oh, c’mon, everyone loves terrible pick up lines,” Stiles says. “Oh man, Scott totally missed out, how do you write a two hundred page screenplay and not include not one pirate-related pun? What about booty? Derek, don’t you want to steal my booty? Plunder my--”

“Stiles,” Derek says. “I don’t--”

Right, how could Stiles be so insensitive. It’s the sex thing, right? “Sorry,” Stiles says awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I mean, whenever you’re ready--”

Derek sighs. “Stiles. It’s not about the sex. Just… no more puns. They’re terrible.”

They get out of the car, walking over to the harbor. Stiles is tempted to crack out a few more, but then Derek gives him a warning look. Stiles settles for holding Derek’s hand while they walk onto the dock… which is actually pretty nice. He hasn’t done this before, the handholding while having a pleasant walk. The sun is shining brightly on the water, the air smells of salt, seagulls are crying out, and…

“What are we doing here, anyways? I thought we were supposed to catch the ferry to Catalina Island and then see what would work.”

“We’re taking my boat,” Derek says, leading them towards a nice mid-sized yacht with _The Triskelion_ stenciled neatly on its side.

“Whoa whoa whoa, you have a boat?” Stiles blinks at the thing. It isn’t ostentatious like a lot of the other boats in the harbor, but boats are definitely money. “Does Scott know about the boat?”

“Yeah. I’ve already agreed that we can use it for the movie. C’mon, we’ll have more freedom to find locations around the island with the boat.” Derek climbs over the edge, and offers his hand to Stiles to help him into the boat.

“Wait, if you’re loaded, why were you doing porn?” Stiles asks, running a hand down the wooden paneling of the sides. He peers inside the cabin; there’s a huge flatscreen TV, a fluffy looking couch, and upon further exploration, finds a gorgeous double bed taking up most of the space in a little bedroom. There even is a little ensuite bathroom.

“Eh, Peter guilt-tripped me into doing a lot of things. That’s why I was working for him. Now, I do it because I like it. And I only film with you, so that’s no hardship at all.” Derek smiles at him, and it’s so sweet Stiles almost regrets what he says next. Except not really, because he loves puns.

“Heh. Hard. Ship. I mean, we’re on a boat, and we both have…”

Derek’s face falls.

“Okay, okay, I’ll shut up.”

It’s fascinating to watch Derek prepare the yacht to leave the harbor, and his arms look fantastic in that tight t-shirt he’s wearing as he turns the wheel, maneuvering them out of the harbor.

“There are snacks in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Derek says.

Stiles opens the fridge to find several bottles of champagne, a tray filled with different types of cheese, sliced apples, grapes, and strawberries. “Derek?” Stiles asks, hesitant.

Derek’s concentrating on steering the boat, but he’s starting to turn red, shyly saying, “We’ve been dating for a month. I thought it would be nice.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to… Derek, I didn’t get you anything,” Stiles says.

“You don’t have to,” Derek says.

Stiles gets up and hugs him round the waist from behind, burying his face into Derek’s neck. “You’re awesome,” Stiles announces. “And this whole thing is awesome. Even though it’s technically for work, the view is great, the company is great, and I can’t wait to eat all the fancy food you’ve got for us and enjoy this boat ride.”

“It’s not that fancy,” Derek says, blushing.

Stiles kisses him on the cheek before Derek shoos him away so he can steer.

 

* * *

 

The afternoon passes by lazily, drifting away on the water. They sail to Catalina island, and around it, marking at least seven different locations to film for the movie, and are now idling the yacht just off the island. Stiles is sprawled out on the deck on a lawn chair, feeling the sun warm on his skin. He’s taken off his shirt earlier, determined to get a tan.

“You’ll get sunburned,” Derek says, sitting down next to him.

“Excuse me, I didn’t know we were having an extravagant yacht date today and I would have this glorious opportunity to stretch out on the sun,” Stiles says.

“Here, let me,” Derek says, shaking a bottle of sunblock at him.

Stiles turns over obligingly, letting Derek spread the sunblock onto his back. He closes his eyes, thinking about Derek’s large, warm hands, firmly stroking along the planes of his back. The pressure of his hands sliding down Stiles’ spine feels so good, and Stiles starts thinking about Derek’s hands, about Derek’s mouth, his body, how good this month has been.

Stiles sighs a deep-seated sigh of contentment; thinking about the nights he’s spent cuddled up to Derek in their bed at the studio, the long hours laughing over editing other videos together, Derek teaching him how to make pancakes… just hanging out with Derek.

It’s been great.

Yeah, there have been kisses, and Stiles has been careful to pull back before anything’s gotten too heated. And he’s back to jerking it twice a day like he used to in high school, but it’s totally worth it.

Derek’s hands hover over Stiles’ ass for a second, and then drift down to his calves, rubbing sunblock into Stiles’ skin. “You want to turn over?” Derek asks softly.

Stiles turns onto his back, and he knows he’s visibly hard underneath his shorts. “Thanks, I can, uh, this is all reachable for me,” Stiles says.

“That’s not why I asked you to turn over,” Derek says, leaning in to kiss Stiles on the lips. The sunblock clatters to the deck as he kisses Stiles, and Derek’s body presses him to the deck, hips rubbing up against his hard--

“Derek--” Stiles gasps, when Derek deepens the kiss, mouth hot and devouring, and then licks at Stiles’ neck, lips trailing down to his collarbone, and then down Stiles’ torso, past his navel--

“Derek, what are you doing?” Stiles asks breathlessly, grabbing Derek’s wrist before he can pull down Stiles’ shorts.

“I’m about to blow my boyfriend on my boat,” Derek says, looking up at him.

“I thought we were going slow! You don’t have to,” Stiles splutters, squirming out from underneath Derek, who is now giving him a weird look.

“Do you not want to?” Derek asks.

“I would love to, I just, I don’t want you do to think you have to like, appease me or something because I like sex and you don’t!” Stiles says awkwardly, flailing.

Derek stares at him. “Stiles. I’ve never said--”

“Yes, you said you didn’t like sex and you just did it for the job, and I understand, it’s totally cool--”

Derek sighs, and sits down next to Stiles, leaning against the railing of the boat. Stiles frowns at him guiltily. “I’m sorry we… I mean I didn’t know about it, before, and I know we slept together at the party, and then after for the videos and stuff, and I felt bad, that you didn’t…”

“Stiles, I think you may have misinterpreted what I was saying that one time. I was saying as a demisexual person I don’t normally enjoy sex, particularly the kind I had to do for work. But I thought I made it clear from the beginning that I wanted to have a relationship with you.” Derek takes Stiles’ hand in his and gives him a quizzical smile. “Did you think I was pretending to enjoy sex with you?”

Stiles flushes, it sounds silly now that he thinks about it. Derek had been very vocal about how much he had liked… “No, I just… I just didn’t want to pressure you,” Stiles says sheepishly.

“That’s sweet,” Derek says. “Can I suck you off now?”

Stiles nods, suddenly nervous, and Derek takes his shorts off slowly. It’s thrilling to be naked in the sunlight like this, exposed to the open air. He can hear other boats in the distance, the sounds of people laughing and talking, and here Derek is, gorgeous eyes staring intently at his hard cock.

Derek moves achingly slow, dragging his tongue along Stiles’ length, like he’s savoring the taste. He licks the sensitive underside of Stiles’ cock, making Stiles shudder.

“Derek, maybe we should go inside--”

“Shh, I got you,” Derek says, and then he gets his mouth on the tip, working his way down, and all Stiles can feel is the hot pressure of his mouth.

“Ahh, Der--”

Stiles can feel Derek laughing around his cock, the vibrations shaking him as Derek moves up and down. Derek’s gray-green eyes look up at him fondly, and Stiles can’t help the happy swoop that flies through his stomach. Derek reaches up a hand to Stiles’ mouth, trying to shush him.

“Oh my God, don’t shush me, we literally are like five feet away from being in a private space, we could just-- _oh!_ ”

Derek swallows him down the hilt, and Stiles can see the outline of his own cock in Derek’s cheeks. Derek starts moving relentlessly, and Stiles can barely hang on. He grabs at Derek’s hair, his bare hips bucking against the hard deck, and then Derek does this thing with his tongue that makes Stiles just lose track of what is happening with his body. He looks up and he can see just dizzying blue sky and sunlight, clouds dashing across the sky as he comes helplessly down Derek’s throat.

Stiles slumps against the floor, and then Derek’s beautiful face comes into his vision, a satisfied smile on his face. He smugly licks away a stray drop of come on his lips. “I definitely enjoyed that,” Derek says.

“I guess we’re officially sea men now,” Stiles quips.

It takes a few seconds, and then Derek groans. “Stiles… really?”

“Well, maybe just you, since you just took a whole crew of mine down your--”

“I really was going to see if you wanted to go fool around on the bed and now I’m not in the mood anymore,” Derek says sadly.

“Aw, really?” Stiles asks, laughing. He looks at Derek’s wilting erection. “Aw, was it the pun. Please come back,” he cajoles.

“And now you’re talking to my dick,” Derek says, deadpan.

“You love me anyway,” Stiles jokes.

Derek just looks at him and gives him a small little smile, then leans in, kissing Stiles on the forehead.

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tumblr post about the difference between a bottom and a power bottom has absolutely nothing to do with this fic and was not made for the fic, but is an old popular post that went viral in 2013. Still hilarious, though.
> 
> If you clicked on one of the links to see the closeups on the pieces on the bulletin board, you'll see that the pornstar names for Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were: Luke Thighwalker, Selina Kyal, and Eli Badley. I've mentioned Isaac's in a previous chapter, and it's from Star Wars, but the references for Erica and Boyd are DC and Marvel, respectively, for Catwoman (Selina Kyle) and Patriot (Eli Bradley.) Additional closeup links of the [bulletin board](http://teenwoofs.com/bleep/tas.jpg), [a closeup](https://40.media.tumblr.com/f16c6617a8fd5dba363000d9a6c7858e/tumblr_nyo9osEqtI1snaca2o1_500.png) and [another closeup](https://41.media.tumblr.com/48c4c36b456355719f446f52089afa70/tumblr_nyo9osEqtI1snaca2o2_400.png) of the post-its, and the [Derek feature](http://teenwoofs.com/bleep/tas9.jpg) in the magazine.
> 
> ~
> 
> Preview of next chapter [here](http://36.media.tumblr.com/98ef572c1dcb0a2314a358c61347e8b3/tumblr_mq6rqf0kgT1qjf3u1o1_500.jpg) (nsfw image).


	14. Now We're On Our Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Jay and Charm for the beta-work, and also to literaryoblivion, fauvistfly, mikkimouse, infectedcolors, frek, and secondstar for talking me through this chapter, your friendship and support is so dear to me.

“Release the maiden!” Isaac brandishes his sword, and Stiles parries back. Maybe a little too hard, because the whiteboard markers break apart, and both of their swords fall to the ground in a plastic clatter.

Scott makes an unimpressed noise. “Okay, let’s do that again. Stiles, can you try _not_ looking at Derek while you’re fighting Isaac?”

“I’m flirting,” Stiles explains, winking at Derek. “Our characters end up together anyway, I _should_ be looking at Derek, right? This is the first time I see him. Obviously Captain Redmayne has to take an interest.”

“Yeah, okay,” Scott says patiently. “But that’s not really what your face is doing, Stiles.”

Isaac laughs, and Stiles shoots him a dirty look. Isaac nudges Derek knowingly, waggling his eyebrows, and then starts flipping through his script again when Derek ignores him.

Stiles catches Derek’s eye, and Derek just shrugs, smiling back at him. Stiles forgets the snarky retort he means to give Scott, and smiles back automatically. Derek’s beard looks so nice today. Stiles had gotten to watch him trim and shave it, actually, this morning at his apartment, brushing his teeth in Derek’s bathroom while Derek did his morning routine.

It had been an amazing night. The first time Stiles had ever been to Derek’s apartment, actually. Derek had made dinner and then they argued over whether _A New Hope_ or   _Empire Strikes Back_ was better, and then Stiles had needed to prove a point about carbon-freezing, so they ended up doing an entire _Star Wars_ marathon. And Stiles had been delighted to see that the bear he’d won for Derek was in fact _still_ in his bed, although they moved the huge thing so they had room to cuddle and watch the movie.  

Stiles hadn’t even realized they’d just fallen asleep together without having sex until the next morning when they were getting ready to go to the studio together.

There’s a slight unevenness to the left side of Derek’s beard, because Stiles had leaned over and kissed him on the cheek at the exact moment Derek was still shaving it. It’s barely noticeable, but Stiles can tell. He wants to kiss the spot.

“Okay, you’re doing it again,” Scott says, an amused smile on his face.

“Doing what? What’s wrong with my face?” Stiles asks petulantly.

Allison folds her script under her arm. “Stiles, what Scott is trying to say is that you guys are on rival pirate crews right now. You’ve just met. While Captain Redmayne may think Raoul the first mate of Captain Gideon Daggers may be ruggedly handsome, he’s still the first mate of your bitter rival, and your crews hate each other.”

“But we’re about to team up!” Stiles protests. “We’re gonna go find the treasure together!”

Allison bops Stiles on the head with the thick script. “That doesn’t happen until after I double-cross you guys. Right now we all hate each other, so please just try to tone down the heart eyes just a little bit.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles grumbles, shooting Derek an apologetic look. He really thought he was doing pretty good at the acting thing. He memorized all of his lines and went over all his scenes with Derek. Okay, maybe he got distracted rehearsing some of his scenes with Derek, but hey the script said “They kiss passionately” and well, one thing had led to another.

It’s okay, Stiles has got this thing down. It’s really important for the studio that this movie do well, and it’s important to werewolves in media, and important to Scott.

So. Stiles is trying his best.

“Hey, I like the heart eyes,” Derek says appreciatively, stepping forward and kissing Stiles quickly.

“Thanks, babe,” Stiles sighs, slumping onto Derek. There’ a part of him that wonders when he started using the endearment so effortlessly to Derek, when it changed from the automatic way he talked to the camera when he was “on,” to something that felt right and natural.

Whatever. Stiles is in a relationship, he can call Derek whatever he wants. Even though Derek crossed out all the nicknames Stiles came up with on the studio bulletin board, he doesn’t seem to mind _babe_ at all.

Derek’s chest is comfortable, and Stiles is sleepy. They’ve been practicing all day and they haven’t gotten past any of first few scenes. Stiles could use some coffee. Or a nap. Or a nap _with_ Derek. Mm, that sounds nice. Stiles can feel Derek’s arms curl around him in a hug, and he closes his eyes contentedly.

“Okay, let’s regroup,” Scott says. “Allison, ideas?”

Allison considers. “Okay, Isaac and I can work on the scene where he discovers that Josephine is actually the fearsome pirate queen in disguise all along. Erica looked pretty set when I checked in on her earlier; she’s teaching Boyd, Danny and Jackson the choreography for the fight scenes in Act Two. And Scott, I know Erica’s great as Josephine’s first mate, and that we’d find the extras for Josie’s crew later, but I really we should start casting now. I think her crew should be all women, and two of them--Pearl and Buckley-- they’ve got important parts, so we need to--”

“On it,” Scott says brightly. “Cora said she already hired two girls for that, and they also have a lot of acting experience. And stuntwork. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Okay, great,” Allison says, nodding. “Scott, you should probably come with us, I had a few ideas for how the scene could play out.”

“Right,” Stiles snorts from where he is, face half-buried in Derek’s neck. “He’s definitely gonna _come_ with you guys, I mean how much practice are you really gonna--”

Scott grins good naturedly. “C’mon, that’s for _after_ work. Or maybe we’ll film a short teaser for the site, who knows.”

Isaac grins, slapping Scott playfully on the ass. “Please, we had a video out Friday, we don’t need to film another one. You know who actually hasn’t released a video in a long while?”

Allison turns to Stiles and Derek, clapping her hands in agreement. “That’s a great idea, actually, since Stiles seems to have checked out of pirate mode for now. We haven’t had any full-length features of you two since--”

Stiles closes his eyes, remembering the intensity of the last time Derek knotted him. It had been incredible, and yeah, they’ve had sex a few times since then, but not anything more extensive than getting each other off with their mouths and bodies. They’re moving slow, Stiles remembers.

Derek’s hand strokes the small of his back, a steady comfort, like he knows what Stiles is worried about. Can probably smell it. “We’ll take the cameras and tripods up to the set and see what we come up with, okay?” Derek says. “I mean, it might just be like two hours of Stiles asleep and me reading, so.”

“Get out of here,” Scott says, laughing at them. “It’s been a long day, if you end up just napping that’s cool too. Your fans are thirsty, some cuddles would hold them at bay.”

Stiles pretends to snore loudly.

“Ah, there he goes, looks like it’ll be pretty boring footage,” Derek says. He grabs Stiles by the butt, hoisting him up and onto his shoulder, and Stiles bites back a laugh, and proceeds to make loud obnoxious snoring sounds, theatrically dangling his arms as Derek carries him out of the room.

Cora’s in the hallway on the way to her office, flipping through some paperwork when she spots them on their way upstairs. “Wait, hold up,” she calls out.

Derek whirls around, making Stiles a little dizzy. The blood is all rushing to his head, but he’s got a great view of Derek’s ass a few inches from his face.

There’s a distinct snap of a camera, and Stiles tries to tilt his head to see what’s going on.

Cora is grinning at them. “Cameras and tripods are already in your set,” she says.

“Stiles is just going to take a nap,” Derek says, as Stiles admires the curve of Derek’s ass in the jeans he’s wearing. And they are _tight_ jeans. Stiles can’t really say he’s been able to appreciate the booty from this angle, and he has to say it’s fine. He reaches out and grabs a handful of cheek in each hand, squeezing appreciatively.

“Mmhm,” Cora says, turning into her office and shutting the door.  

They head upstairs, Stiles’ body bouncing slightly as Derek carries him all the way to their set.

“Yes! Bed, perfect,” Stiles sighs happily as Derek sets him down. This bed that smells of him and Derek is starting to feel a lot more like home than his own spartan apartment, and he leans back into the soft comforter, flopping his head against a fluffy pillow. It’s unusually warm in California today, and Stiles scrambles out of his clothes, rubbing his bare skin against the cool sheets. They’re blue today, fresh from the laundry, and Stiles presses his face into the soft cotton.

“Freedom,” Stiles sighs, closing his eyes and sprawling naked out over the bed. He stretches from one side to the other, and this feels fantastic. “I know I wanted to cuddle and nap but now I hope you’re not planning to read in the bed because you’re werewolf warm and I’m really enjoying this.”

Derek makes an amused noise behind him. “When did you say you wanted to cuddle with me?”

Stiles thinks for a moment and really can’t remember. It’s been an interesting few weeks, and he’s gotten used to Derek picking up on things he hasn’t said. “Never mind,” Stiles says, flipping over on his back, enjoying the feel of the sheets on his bare skin. He listens to the sound of Derek taking his own shoes off, each one clunking on the floor. Stiles hears the windows being opened just a little and smiles because Derek knows Stiles likes a slight breeze when he sleeps, and then the sound of a zipper being pulled down and fabric rustling.

Stiles rolls over, opens one eye to see Derek in his boxer briefs, stepping out of his jeans, grabbing his novel and reading glasses out of the nightstand. He’s about to sit down in the armchair next to the bed when Stiles lifts an eyebrow, lazily motioning at Derek’s t-shirt. “C’mon, let’s see it, big guy.”

“What, you want me to get undressed? To read?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says sleepily. “I’m naked, and you’re obviously enjoying the view. It’s only fair.”

Stiles grins and arches his back, watching Derek’s gaze flickers over his body.

“Fine,” Derek says, snorting a little, and he stands up and strips out of his t-shirt, kicking his boxers off. “Take your nap,” he says, tossing the underwear playfully at Stiles.

Stiles ducks and makes an approving noise when Derek’s hairy muscular thighs come into his view, and watches as Derek opens up _House of Leaves_ and starts puzzling through it.  

Derek looks good in his glasses, even if he doesn’t think so. Stiles watches Derek read for a little, listening to the soft turn of pages, the little noises Derek makes when he’s trying to figure something out.

Stiles closes his eyes, but the sleep he was excited about all afternoon doesn’t come; he keeps thinking about Derek’s eyelashes underneath his glasses, the way his shoulders look in the soft light next to the window. He opens his eyes, trying to subtly watch Derek read, but Derek looks up over the book and give Stiles a little smile.

“Thought you were sleeping,” Derek says, tone lightly accusing.

“Mmm, work calls,” Stiles says flippantly, getting off the bed. He grabs one of the cameras, the digital SLR, leaving the bulkier video cameras on the tripod.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh, just go back to what you were doing, you look great,” Stiles says, snapping a photo. “Just getting some stills of you looking soft and sexy for our site, that’s all,” he says. “It’s perfect.”

Derek shakes his head a little in amusement but he goes back to his book, letting Stiles continue to take photos as he reads. Stiles steps behind him, looking over his shoulder, admiring at the way Derek’s cock and the dark thatch of hair between his thighs contrast between the white pages of his book.

 

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

~

 

Stiles does get a little distracted because the words on the page are absolutely all over the place.

“Derek, I think your book is drunk,” Stiles says, propping his chin on Derek’s shoulder.

“It’s the way it is,” Derek says, sighing and closing the book. He sets it down on the nightstand, turning to look at Stiles. “I take it you’re not going to nap?”

Stiles kisses him in lieu of a response, taking Derek’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it slowly. He moves indulgently, letting Derek cup his face and draw him closer. It’s slow and lazy and Stiles can feel the afternoon sunlight warm on his skin, and then Derek parts his lips invitingly, wanting more.

Stiles resists the urge to delve hungrily back into his mouth, pulling back.

Derek blinks at him, lips red and kiss-swollen, mouth falling open in surprise.

Stiles takes a photo of him.

“Hey, come back here,” Derek says, batting the camera away.

Stiles laughs, shakes his head. “C’mon, work before play,” he says, waving the camera. “Ooh, let’s get some shots of you on the bed.”

Derek actually growls a little, deep and low in his throat, and the sound goes straight to Stiles’ cock. He can see Derek’s eyes darken with interest, but Derek listens and climbs onto the bed. “Our work _is_ play,” Derek says. “There are tripods for a reason, Stiles. Why don’t you put that down and turn on the video so I can--”

“So you can what?” Stiles says, taking a few closeups of the way the hair on Derek’s chest blooms in a particular pattern across his pecs. “What do you want to do to me? I want to hear you say it,” he says a little breathlessly.

“Stiles--”

“There was a solo video you did,” Stiles says, the memory bright in his mind. “Before you were Diamond Vista Ridge. Officially. I was in college, and I must have jerked off to this one at least every day for a month after it came out.”

Derek swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Stiles holds the camera aloft, stepping closer but not quite enough for Derek to touch.

“Do you remember--”

“Yes,” Derek says firmly, hand straying to his cock. He’s hard now, thick and flushed, and he looks up at Stiles standing with the camera, eyes dark. “Is that what you want me to do?”

Stiles nods. It’s always been a fantasy of his since he’s seen that video so many years ago. “I want to tell you how to--”

Derek nods eagerly. “Direct me.”

Stiles sets the camera down and picks up the other one for video. There’s no way he’s not getting this on film. He turns it on, pointing it at himself first, because they need some sort of intro at least. “Hey everyone,” Stiles says, waving at the camera, holding it with the other, selfie-style. “So you all know my boyfriend Derek.” He jerks his head backwards, licking his lips a little. “You’ve all been very patient since our last video, sending us so many emails and tweets and everything. It’s awesome, thank you. I’d like to give a shoutout to--”

“Stiles,” Derek says behind him, frustrated. “You can do that later. Right now you’re filming me and telling how you want me to get off.”

Stiles turns around to see Derek watching him, one eyebrow lifted expectantly. Stiles grins and turns back to the camera. “Yes. Most definitely. I can do that,” he says. “Right, okay.” Stiles turns the camera on Derek and pans it slowly down Derek’s body. “Touch yourself, I wanna see.”

Derek strokes himself surely, and a bead of precome drips from the tip of his cock. Derek maintains eye contact with Stiles, not the camera, staring straight ahead as he continues to work himself, smoothing his thumb over the cockhead, jerking himself.

“Slower,” Stiles says. “And spread your legs.”

Derek lets his knees fall open, and Stiles points the camera up his thighs and then focuses on Derek’s hands, the way his fingers clench around the shaft, pumping up and down.

With his spare hand Stiles grabs the easy-pump bottle of lube out of the nightstand, about to toss it at Derek when he gets a better idea. He puts the camera down on the bed, facing Derek’s face, and then pumps a generous amount of lube into his hand. Stiles picks up the camera again, playing with the slick substance over his fingers. He steps closer, watching the hungry way Derek’s eyes track his hand, the way he bites his lips when Stiles reaches out to Derek, so close he can feel the warmth emanating from his skin.

And then Stiles pulls his hand back just a touch, smirking when Derek groans. He lets the lube drip from his hand directly onto Derek’ cock, trickling messily down his fingers. Derek leans back from his sitting position, falling onto his back.

“Stiles,” Derek says, voice husky. “I want--”

“You want me to touch you? You want me to keep talking?”

“Talk,” Derek says, and there’s a ruddy glow to his cheeks. Stiles is beginning to wonder if this is a fantasy of Derek’s as well, and makes a point in his head to have a conversation later about that. Stiles wants to make all of those things happen, wants to make Derek feel good.

“Keep touching yourself,” Stiles says, and he pumps more lube onto Derek. He looks so good right now, the way his chest heaves up and down, a trickle of sweat dripping from his brow, thighs opening up. The shine from the lube catches in the light as it trickles down Derek’s thighs and to his exposed hole, and one of Derek’s hands wanders there, teasing the rim with a finger.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, throat going dry. His own hand is still slick with lube, and he takes a second to stroke himself. “Open yourself up, babe.”

Derek makes a soft sigh as he slips a finger inside himself, pushing inside to the knuckle. He’s a masterpiece, chest taut with tension and desire, arms all corded muscle, one hand pumping his cock rhythmically as the other presses inside his hole. Derek rocks his hips, thighs heaving on the bed, gasping while he searches for a better angle to pleasure himself.

 

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

~

Stiles groans, struggling to keep the camera steady while touching himself, thinking about that one grainy video he had of Derek long ago, of Derek fingering him like so, except now he’s got Derek right here in front of him, looking up at him, listening to Stiles give him suggestions.

The best thing is that unlike that video where Derek had been looking away at the camera, unfocused, lost in his own fantasy, in the here and now Derek is looking up at Stiles, looking at him with open trust and--

Adoration.

It’s intense, and it’s too much if Stiles thinks about it, what it probably means, what Derek meant when he didn’t say anything after Stiles’ joke on the boat about-- about him--

“Babe, can you turn over? Wanna see that ass of yours,” Stiles says.

Derek obliges, turning over on his side, and here Stiles can focus on Derek’s glorious ass, the way he’s spreading his legs, reaching between them to touch himself. Derek takes his finger out, rubbing the rim, splaying them apart to show Stiles and his camera his stretched out hole, wet and ready for more.

Stiles watches Derek touch himself a little more, fingers tracing the edge of his rim, sometimes easing a finger or two inside himself, but it’s nowhere near the fingerfucking he was giving himself earlier.

“Waiting for something, Derek?” Stiles teases.

“Put the camera down and get over here,” Derek says, a desperate tone in his voice.

“Mmhm,” Stiles says, watching Derek’s ass flex. Derek looks over his shoulder, his hair mussed and eyes shining, and Stiles can’t help but lean forward and kiss him. Derek sighs into the touch, warm hands pulling him closer, tongue slipping between Stiles’ lips, a yearning moan slipping out when Stiles loses his balance a little, falling onto Derek and the bed. The first touch of their bodies is electric, and Stiles gasps when Derek grabs him by the hip and jerks him forward, rutting against him. The friction feels delicious but Stiles almost loses his grip on the camera.

“Derek, let me-- mmph!” Stiles says, as Derek mouths at him greedily. After a moment Stiles manages to pull away and set the camera on the tripod, and also turns on the other ones as well.

Derek is presenting his ass again, and he looks incredible, just aching for Stiles’ cock.

Stiles climbs onto the bed. He pats Derek on the ass, motioning for him to follow him. Stiles sits on the headboard and grins at Derek, stroking himself lazily. “You want me, Derek? You looked so good fucking yourself on your fingers. I’m kinda still tired from the day, you know. Why don’t you fuck yourself on my dick?”

Derek stares at him incredulously for a second before leaning forward and kissing Stiles quickly on the mouth. “You little shit. I can’t believe I lo--”

Derek blinks a little, and shakes his head, a fond smile on his face, and then he says, “I’m gonna ride you into oblivion, I hope you know that. Gonna wipe that smug smile off your face.”

“Turn around so the camera can see you,” Stiles whispers, and Derek turns, facing the camera. The muscles in his back flex gorgeously as Derek hovers over Stiles’ cock and lines himself up, and then without warning Derek sinks onto him.

He’s so warm and tight and wet, and before Stiles can make another teasing comment Derek starts rocking his hips. He’s relentless about it, jerking Stiles into the bed with every thrust.

“Oh my God, Derek,” Stiles gasps, as Derek lifts himself up before dropping back down again, and Stiles can see his cock disappear inside Derek until he’s buried so deep inside. Derek takes his pleasure in hot little breaths and moans, and Stiles leans forward, burying his face in the nape of Derek’s neck. Derek tilts his face to meet him, and Stiles kisses him. Derek is hot and demanding with his mouth until the angle no longer satisfies him, and he goes back to riding Stiles mercilessly.

“Babe, you’re doing so good for me,” Stiles says, reaching around to stroke Derek’s cock. He’s achingly hard beneath Stiles’ fingers, and Stiles leans over Derek’s shoulder, eyeing the camera with a wicked grin as Derek shudders under his touch. Stiles stares at the camera, holding Derek possessively, mouthing “Mine,” at the unseen audience.

“Stiles,” Derek says desperately. “Feel so good, I think I’m gonna--”

“Yeah, Derek, show everyone,” Stiles says, holding on to Derek’s arms. “You look so gorgeous right now,” he whispers to Derek. “Full of my cock, just aching for it…” Stiles grips Derek’s cock tighter, moving his hand around the base, wondering. “You gonna pop a knot, Derek? You told me it happens whenever you’re with me, like you can’t resist--”

“Fuck,” Derek breathes out, and Stiles can feel the knot expanding under his hand.

“Derek,” Stiles says in awe, not able to decide between looking at the slack-jawed pleasure on Derek’s face or the beauty of the swollen knot in his hand. Stiles grips it tight, and Derek moans, and Stiles kisses him softly on the jaw.

Stiles fucks Derek though his orgasm, watching the come spill out of him and onto Stiles’ fingers, his knot still pulsing underneath his fingers. Stiles thrusts, keeping up the rhythm even after Derek slumps against him, Stiles’ name tumbling from his lips with every breath.

Derek is _still_ coming when Stiles does, trembling as Stiles fills him up inside, rocking his hips like he’s eager to get every last drop out of him. Stiles feels breathless by the time Derek slows down and leans back against him, panting. He turns his head slightly so he can smile at Stiles, and Stiles kisses him again, a warm surge of happiness rushing through him.

This is his life. He has a job he loves, and a boyfriend who he gets to do the job with, and he gets to make said boyfriend come on camera and it is amazing and sexy and wonderful and Stiles is just so _content_ right now. He wants to laugh at how nervous he used to be about relationships, because this with Derek, it’s been great. Dating hasn’t been the stressful thing he thought it would be, it’s just been… hanging out with Derek. Who Stiles really… actually…

Derek moans a little, taking Stiles out of his thought.  

“Mm, sensitive?” Stiles asks. He dances his fingers across Derek’s knot, enjoying the little aftershocks of pleasure that show on Derek’s face.

“Yeah, just--”

Derek sighs, easing off of Stiles’ lap, flopping over on his side. He looks absolutely wrecked, hair all mussed, skin flushed from exertion, and there’s come slowly dripping out of his ass. Stiles grins at that. “Fuck, turn around.”

“What?”

“The camera,” Stiles whispers, pointing. He grabs Derek’s hips, pointing his ass proudly towards the camera, spreading his cheeks so there’s a clear shot at Derek’s hole.

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek says. He shakes his ass for the camera, though, and then stands up to turn all of them off.

He walks to the bathroom and comes back with towels, a fond smile on his face.

“Hey,” Stiles says happily.

“Good nap?” Derek asks, raising his eyebrows as they clean up.

Stiles laughs. “The best.”

Derek climbs back into the bed, propping himself up by the elbows. Stiles still hasn’t moved from where he’s been sitting. Stiles is contemplating the best way to tell Derek he was right and he did fuck him into oblivion, when Derek looks up at him, face serious.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something, but didn’t want to do it when we were having sex,” Derek says.

“Oh? Okay, go for it. Wait did I have food stuck in my teeth the entire time--”

“No, Stiles, you didn’t have food in your teeth,” Derek says, shaking his head.

Stiles licks his teeth and finds a scrap of lettuce from the sandwich he had at lunch. “Liar! Oh man, you were totally distracted by the green in my teeth while we were fucking but you were too polite--”

“Stiles,” Derek says, and something about his tone makes Stiles still. “So I want you to know that this doesn’t mean that I’m putting pressure on you, it’s kind of for me to say so you know that I-- I care, but I know that we’ve only been dating for a few months, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, or that I expect you to ever feel--”

“I love you,” Stiles says. It feels right, saying it, and he surprises himself because he wasn’t sure he would ever say it to someone with a romantic context, but it feels like they’ve been building towards this, and he been more and more aware of it the past few weeks. That swooping feeling when Derek handed him his own toothbrush at Derek’s apartment last night, why Stiles felt that strange combination of happy and proud when he saw that bear in Derek’s bed, or when Derek keeps Stiles’ rude post-it notes and puts them up by his desk.

He used to think sex was intimacy, that sharing your body with another person meant that you knew them, but this, _this_ with Derek is intimacy. The way they joke around during sex, the way Derek curls his fingers around his own when they walk, for no other reason other than to touch him.

Yeah. Stiles loves him. There’s no other way he’d describe it.

Derek looks stunned. “I love you too,” he says, after a beat.

“Good,” Stiles says lightly, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him forward. _“Now_ it’s naptime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the last chapter in the notes I linked you all to a "preview" of the next chapter, and whoops, sorry, this scene got really long and I liked ending it here. So! This [nsfw scene](http://36.media.tumblr.com/98ef572c1dcb0a2314a358c61347e8b3/tumblr_mq6rqf0kgT1qjf3u1o1_500.jpg) will happen in the next chapter. 
> 
> Lastly, to hear Tyler Hoechlin breathily saying "fuck" at Wolfsbane 2013, see [here.](http://tylerhoechlinnews.tumblr.com/post/60088639618/tyler-hoechlin-fuuuck-favorite-swear-word)
> 
> Thank you so much for your support everyone! I know that there was a lull in updates and I very much appreciate that you were patient. <3


	15. Winners Take It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to infectedcolors and mikkimouse for looking over this chapter and providing helpful suggestions!

“Where are you going, Raoul?”

Derek looks askance at his feet, and Stiles internally takes a moment to appreciate how far he’s come-- how they’ve all come in terms of their acting. They’ve messed up this particular take so many times, with Scott saying the emotional tone wasn’t quite _there_ yet, so Stiles is trying to think of it a little differently, and instead of doing his over the top pretending of Captain Redmayne’s tough exterior, he’s trying to give him a little vulnerability.

“Your captain has denounced his title, pledging fealty to the pirate queen,” Stiles says, taking off his hat. That bit wasn’t in the script, but he thinks the Captain probably wants to see his lover eye-to-eye right now.

“Most of the crew will stay with Josephine and join her armada,” Derek says, voice contemplating and soft. He grips the wooden railings of the ship and glances seaward. “And you?”

“You did not answer my question,” Stiles says steadily. “But I will answer yours-- living the rest of my days either off the fat of the treasure or serving in her endless war against the might of the Empire, that does not appeal to me.”

“You will take your share of the treasure and go?” Derek asks. He hesitates. “I know your ship was one of the few left intact after the last battle but… I think most of your crew has opted to stay on the island.”

Stiles shrugs, stepping closer. “I understand the allure for many a pirate to stay on this island. That matters not to me. Gold and jewels and the excitement of war… I merely want the wind in my sails, to see the sea again.”

Stiles takes a deep breath. This is the part he keeps messing up, whether he’s being too earnest or guarded or what, but Kira’s acting lessons have paid off a lot, and one of the things she’s always said was that the best lies have a basis in truth. Stiles might not be a dashing pirate captain, but he loves the man standing in front of him, and with Scott’s insightful casting choices and writing, his character does too.

Derek looks at Stiles, indecision in his eyes, and Stiles bites his lip, internally impressed with how distraught Derek looks right now, how well he’s playing Raoul’s insecurities. “I have to admit, that sounds rather...perfect,” he says wistfully. “But I have no ship, and no captain, and I’ve already sent my pitiful share of the treasure off to my sisters in the Americas.”

“Hm,” Stiles says, letting a playful grin cross his face. He turns around, leaning against the railing, and nearly tumbles over by accident.

Derek catches him, face close, eyes widening in concern, and Stiles says under his breath, “I’m okay, they’re still rolling, keep going,” while his face is obscured from the camera by Derek’s shoulder.

Derek sets him alright, and Stiles continues the line, pretending to be embarrassed. “I meant, what I mean is-- I have a ship, and no crew, and you know, one man alone might have difficult sailing, but two, _two_ men--”

Derek scoffs, starting to turn away. “With your share of the treasure I’m sure you can hire any number of crew you please.”

Stiles catches him by the shoulder. “Not if I requested a particular piece of the treasure for my share, something that I could not split apart to pay any number of crew, but one particular thing which was stolen from a very distinct family long ago, believed to be lost forever to the ages, and yet there is a single pirate alive who still bears that name.”

Stiles pulls from his pocket the ring with the triskelion engraved into it, holding it aloft. It had been fairly convenient that Derek had been shirtless for so many scenes in the movie, so Scott had written Derek’s tattoo into the story.

Stiles holds the ring out to Derek now, feeling a weird urge to drop to one knee. The thought makes him feel warm and excited, like the idea of asking Derek to marry him is something he might actually want to do someday in the future. He feels his cheeks flush now, holding the ring out expectantly, and Derek’s mouth drops open as planned, and Stiles has to remind himself that this is a _scene,_ and they’re acting, and he’s not actually giving Derek a ring.

“You chose my family crest. As your piece of the treasure.”

“It is yours, actually, but I know Josephine’s rules would not have allowed you to claim it without you revealing your royal heritage. I keep my promises, D--damnit.” That was a close one, Stiles had nearly said Derek’s name and ruined the whole take. He hopes the cursing works out alright.

It looks like it, considering Derek’s stepping closer, an appropriately stunned look on his face.  

“You’re handing over your share of the treasure to me?”

Stiles shakes his head. “This has always been yours,” he says. “If you would allow me the honor of returning it to you,” he says.

Derek looks him in the eye, nodding ever so slightly, and lets Stiles take his hand, slipping the ring onto his finger. Stiles feels a little dizzy and lightheaded, and all the more so when Derek sweeps him into a rousing kiss. Stiles lets groans, letting Derek lead the kiss, and he forgets he’s holding the silly pirate hat and accidentally lets go of it. Stiles can hear it fall into the water below, but he’s preoccupied with Derek’s hot mouth, and now he has his hands free to tangle them in Derek’s hair, which feels great.

They finally pause for breath, gasping, and Derek’s eyes are shining with emotion, and he presses his forehead to Stiles’ own. “I would gladly sail with you, to the ends of the earth. I will pay you back for this, help you seize any treasure you wish--”

“I already have the best treasure anyone could hope for,” Stiles says, pressing a kiss to Derek’s knuckles, rubbing the ring on his finger. Derek smiles at him in return, and it’s not the cocky smile he’s been using for Raoul’s character; it’s the fond smile he reserves for Stiles, and it makes Stiles forget the fact that they’re on a set and wearing costume, he just really--  

“And _cut_!” Scott calls out. “Great job, everyone! It looks like that’s a wrap! We’ve officially filmed all the scenes of our first movie!”

Everyone on the boat erupts into applause, and Stiles takes the opportunity to pull Derek back in for another kiss.

* * *

 

**ONE YEAR LATER**

 

The film does much, much better than they had hoped in theaters. Scott had been nervous about it, convinced they’d be barely able to make back the money they spent, but _No Breaths Left Behind_ is a surprising hit at the box office. The film had piqued a lot of curiosity from the fact alone that it was made by an adult film studio, and many reviewers had nothing but great things to say about the writing and the fun, fast-paced adventure feel and creative fight scenes and stuntwork more than made up for the lack of special effects.

Malia and Kira are to thank for that, having joined the team when filming started. Their actual experience in acting and stunts added a lot to the work, and for the next few months the entire studio worked diligently on rehearsing and then moving on to filming. Isaac and Allison’s characters carried the main action and romance storyline, with Stiles and Derek’s characters’ flirty banter were supposed to be comic relief, but many of their reviewers were pleasantly surprised with the emotional depth of their relationship arc.

Overall the film did well in Hollywood, and the NC-17 version available for special download on their website did astoundingly well, with tons of sales by their regular subscribers and new people who were drawn in by the movie. Stiles is still astounded by how much attention it got; but he’s really proud of Scott for getting all the recognition he deserves for his writing and directing.

Tonight is the AVN Awards, and Stiles is in the shower, closing his eyes as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. He turns off the shower, and is proud that he actually remembers to use the little windshield-wiper thing (he’s pretty sure Derek gave it an actual name when he bought it, but it looks like a windshield wiper and that’s what Stiles is calling it) to clean the glass shower door.

Stiles listens to it squeak, making mocking squeaking sounds back.

Somewhere else in the apartment, Derek calls out, “I can hear you and I’m going to say cleaning the door after every time we use it will prevent the unsightly buildup of the water stains on our brand new shower door!”

Stiles laughs, and yells back, even though he really doesn’t need to, he just likes the way his voice carries in this new space of theirs. “Yeah well I’m pretty sure I won’t notice water stains if I’m pressed up against the glass while you’re fucking my brains out!”

It only takes a moment for Derek to waltz into the bathroom-- their bathroom, in the new apartment they’ve moved into together two weeks ago. Stiles is still getting used to it, but he loves living with Derek so far. Sure, there are little things like Derek’s weird obsession with healthy cereal, and the long grooming rituals that go into keeping his beard perfect, but Stiles loves waking up every morning with him. Just knowing he’s there, whether in the other room or right next to Stiles, is a huge comfort.

Stiles grins at Derek, who’s already dressed in a dapper suit, staring ardently into the shower. “Hey, I actually remembered to do the thing,” Stiles says, setting the cleaner thingie down.

“You missed a spot,” Derek says, opening the shower door.

“Really? Where?” Stiles asks, pretending he doesn’t notice Derek’s eyes flicking down his wet and naked body.

“Right--”

Stiles grabs Derek by the face before he can point it out, kissing him hungrily. Derek moans, gasping as he pulls away. “Stiles, you know I have to leave early for the award ceremony with Scott, we have to finish that deal with my uncle to buy out the rest of _Hale House.”_

“You’re the one that came up here when you knew I’d be getting out of the shower.”

“You started it, talking about fucking you up against the shower door.” Derek hums thoughtfully, tracing a finger over Stiles’ bare hip. “We actually haven’t done that yet.”

Stiles goes in for another kiss, and Derek moves forward but then stops himself. “Stiles, I love you, but this will have to wait-- I really just came up here to say bye, and I’ll see you at the show.”

“Fine,” Stiles sighs.

He pecks Derek on the cheek, careful to not get his suit wet, and Derek smiles at him, handing him a towel. “Go get ready. When we get home we can check shower sex off the list.”

Stiles whips the towel at him playfully, and watches Derek’s butt in those tight pants leave. He dries himself off slowly, trying to come down from the buzz of arousal he’s had ever since Derek walked through the door, and it’s not working really since now he’s thinking about the list he and Derek made when they moved into the apartment.

It’s something they’ve started a few months ago, what started out as kink negotiation to just things they wanted to do together as they got busier and busier with _True Alpha Studios_ and didn’t always have time to just spend together that wasn’t work. So the list grew and shrunk as they marked off things like _hiking up to the Hollywood sign_ and _experiment with blindfolds and rope play_. One of the things they’ve most recently crossed off was _move in together_ , and Stiles still gets a happy little thrill whenever Derek says things like “when we get home.”

The new list includes things they haven’t done while moving in together, and Stiles pulls it out of the bathroom cabinet to peruse it fondly, eyes skipping over some of the more mundane tasks like _go shopping for new curtains_ and other decorating things, halting on some of the other sexy ideas.

_Sex in public._

Stiles grins to himself, putting the list back in the cabinet, gleefully pulling out the lube instead. He and Derek have always pushed that one back, since they both work in porn and their exhibitionism kink is very well utilized, but there’s a difference between all your knowing friends filming you fuck and fucking in a public space, hidden and just out of view with the thrilling possibility of getting caught.

Somewhere, like an awards ceremony.

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to prep himself, taking care to stretch himself thoroughly, and halfway through he realizes the whole process has made him incredibly turned on, just thinking about Derek pulling him to a dark and shadowy corner, pulling down his pants and finding Stiles wet and open for him.

Stiles has a sudden, brilliant idea.

He strides into the bedroom, rooting around under the bed, looking for the simple black plug they bought a few weeks ago. They’ve played with it some since then, but Stiles still remembers in great detail the slack-jawed, awed look Derek had given him when Stiles had put it in for the first time. Derek had proceeded to fuck him slowly with it, watching it move in and out of him, and it had been a long night of Derek slowly teasing him and Stiles coming untouched when Derek got his cock inside him finally.

Stiles’s hand brushes across a familiar feeling box, and he pulls it out, but it isn’t the open one with the black plug they’ve used before, but the other plug they’ve bought on that day, a smaller plug with a wicked-looking curve.

And it vibrates.

“Mmm,” Stiles hums to himself, jerking his own hard cock with a few sure strokes, just to stave off some of the tension. He opens the package with his lube-slick fingers, reading the instructions quickly. One double-A battery, awesome. Stiles grabs the remote control for the TV and yanks the battery out, cheerfully getting the toy ready with the battery and even more lube.

It feels good going in, not as good as Derek, but good nonetheless, and Stiles has to resist the urge to fuck himself on it. He taps the flared base, shuddering a little when the plug moves against his prostate.

Stiles checks the time and hastily gets dressed, slipping on his suit and then slipping the vibrator remote into his jacket pocket.

His phone is beeping with a text, oh great, Allison is outside already. Stiles eyes himself in the mirror, he doesn’t really have time to do his hair, but his hands are still covered in lube… and that kind of works, right? He pushes it into his hair until his hair is decent looking-ish, and dashes downstairs as best he can with a plug in his ass.

The awaiting limo is filled with everyone from the studio except for Scott, Derek and Cora, and everyone looks fantastic in their suits and dresses.

Allison wolf whistles when Stiles steps carefully into the limo, and then he sits down on the seat-- wow, that feels-- that feels weird but also kind of amazing. Luckily everyone is too excited about the awards ceremony and too preoccupied to notice Stiles’ heightened state. Jackson is staring into Danny’s eyes (huh, interesting) while Danny fixes his tie, and Malia and Kira are absorbed in conversation with Isaac, and Boyd is helping Erica fix her dress.

This is gonna be fine.

The driver makes a sharp turn, and the motion sends Stiles falling forward. He bumps right into Allison’s shoulder, which hits the button in Stiles’ jacket pocket and vibrates the plug suddenly.

Stiles gasps, trembling at the sudden intensity, and everyone in the limo turns to look at him.

Malia tilts her head, confused. “You usually only smell like that when Derek is around.”

“I--uh-- sexting! He just sent me a very detailed and racy text message about what he wants to do with me after the show. Yeah.” Stiles looks sheepishly at them, and even pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket for good measure, waving it at them. There is actually a recent text message from Derek, except it only says _< 3\. _But they don’t know that.

The explanation seems to work fairly well, except the limo is now traveling fairly quickly along a bumpy road covered in potholes, and Stiles is definitely feeling each and every vibration.

Okay. Maybe this wasn’t the smartest idea.

 

* * *

 

Cora is absolutely beaming, and she wraps Derek in a hug as they watch the line of Peter’s back slink down the hallway. “We did it, we bought him out,” she says happily.

“Wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you,” Derek says sincerely to Scott over his shoulder.

“Right back at you,” Scott says, as Cora gestures for him to join the hug. Scott gets pulled into the hug, and Derek feels giddy with success and the promise of so many exciting future projects to come. “Hiring you guys was one of the best decisions I ever made. It’s been fantastic working with you both,” Scott says proudly. “Come on, we should get seated, the opening presentation will begin soon.”

They make their way to the main auditorium, where the rest of _True Alpha Studios_ is already seated. Derek even gets to meet the famous Lydia, one of the founding members of the studio, and now a silent partner.

“Your voice sounds really familiar,” Derek says, trying to place where he’s heard it.

“Occasionally when I’m in town I’ll help out at the studio,” Lydia says, tossing her hair back. “After I trained Cora to do most of those jobs they really didn’t need me to do that, so that has been a relief. Cora’s been doing an amazing job.”

Derek thinks on the many responsibilities Cora’s had and suddenly realizes where he’s heard Lydia’s voice before. “You hung up on me once,” Derek says.

“I what?”

Derek blushes, seeing Stiles at the end of the row, greeting Scott with a hug. “I, um, it was after I met Stiles for the first time, and I didn’t have his number but I wanted to talk to him, and you, uh...told me he didn’t get involved with fans.”

“Was this after you slept with him at that party?” Cora asks from behind him. “Oh my gosh, Derek, you utter dork.”

Lydia purses her lips. “Sorry about that, you should have said you were Derek Hale, I would have definitely given you Stiles’ contact information. Although, I think it worked out for the best, though, considering the lack of that information prompted you to apply for the studio.”

Stiles catches his eye from the seat row, and pats the empty seat next to him, waving with this other hand.

“Yeah, it did,” Derek says happily.

Derek makes his way over to the saved seat, kissing Stiles quickly on the lips to say hello. He smells good, if very nervous for some reason, and also a lot more like arousal than Derek had expected. Then again, Stiles does randomly get horny at the strangest of times, and right now Stiles is just looking up at Derek, rubbing his beard fondly.

“Hey, did you guys drink in the limo or something?” Derek asks.

“There was champagne, but it was on the far end and...I didn’t feel like moving to get it,” Stiles says, dropping his voice to a low whisper. He grabs Derek by the tie and kisses him hungrily, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that probably isn’t appropriate-- well, they are at an awards ceremony celebrating adult films, but still-- hardly the place.

Stiles winks at him and presses something into his hand, and then sits back down in his seat, a mischievous smile on his face.

The show is about to start, and there are cameras roaming all over the place to get reaction shots, so Derek doesn’t have time to look at what Stiles’ handed to him until about midway through the ceremony. They’re presenting the nominees for Best Comeshot, and the audience is pretty distracted because this is the first set of explicit videos on the big screen, so Derek finally pulls the thing out of his pocket to look at it.

It’s a slim, plastic device with a few buttons on it. Derek turns to look at Stiles, holding it up in question, and Stiles frantically gestures for him to hide it. Still confused about what it is, Derek presses one of the buttons experimentally, and Stiles’ mouth falls open, a fresh wave of arousal emanating from his body.

 _Oh._ There’s no way he-- oh God, he did. Stiles is sitting at this awards ceremony with a vibrating plug in his ass, and he’s just handed Derek the remote.

Well, this is definitely going to make sitting through all three hours of this thing a lot more interesting.

Derek can’t watch Stiles the whole time, but he settles for taking Stiles’ hand and squeezing it, feeling the hot rush of blood beating quickly through his body as Derek ups the settings, keeping Stiles on the edge of pleasure constantly. His whole face is flushed, and Stiles keeps shifting in his seat, gripping the armrests.

Stiles groans when they announce one of the winners for best threesome, and to his right, Scott says, “Aw, it’s okay, me and Isaac and Allison will get it next time.”

“Yup, yeah, you guys should totally have won,” Stiles says, the words coming out of his mouth in stilted halts. He makes a low noise of defeat when Derek presses the remote again, and Stiles stumps backwards.

“No, I liked their video. You know they used to be gymnasts? They totally deserved the win.”

Derek figures he’ll tease Stiles up until they finish announcing all the categories that anyone from _True Alpha Studios_ has been nominated for, and then they can go home early. Their studio actually wins a number of awards, and Derek forgets about the vibrating toy when he’s proudly clapping in support of Scott winning _Best Screenplay_ and _Best Director_ and when their studio wins the award for _Best Feature Length Film._

“Derek,” Stiles says, panting his name desperately from beside him.

“Hm?” Derek asks innocently.

“Do you wanna… go…”

“We’re actually nominated in an upcoming category, we should probably stay,” Derek says, referring to his program. There are a few more categories and then _Best Knotting Scene_ is up, and while Derek is pretty sure those guys from _Visual Climax_ will take home the award, they should stay so the camera can get the video of all the nominees being announced.

“Stiles, what is up with your hair?” Lydia asks, leaning over Derek to tsk disapprovingly at Stiles. She pulls out a small container of pomade from her purse. “Hurry up and go fix it before your category gets announced.”

Stiles is about to shake his head no, but Derek takes the container, nodding at Lydia. “I’ll go help him, he’ll probably over-gel it if he’s on his own.” Stiles’ eyes widen in understanding, and he gets out of his seat immediately, grabbing Derek by the hand.

They race through the auditorium hallways, and find their way backstage where there are a number of dressing rooms. Stiles pushes a door open that’s marked “Visual Climax Studios” and it’s gloriously empty, just stark white furniture and walls, and a welcoming bouquet of flowers on the table.

As soon as the door is shut Stiles is kissing Derek frantically, and Derek runs his hands down the silky smooth surface of Stiles’ suit jacket, and then squeezes Stiles ass in appreciation.

“Oh my God,” Stiles exhales, “I think I’m going to die if I don’t get you inside of me right now, you fucking tease, I cannot believe--”

He gropes at Derek’s suit pants, making impatient noises as he unzips and takes out Derek’s cock, giving him a few strokes. Derek’s already been half-hard throughout the whole ceremony-- watching Stiles’s expressions as the plug vibrated inside him has been much more entertaining than the rest of the awards.

Stiles turns around fumbling at his own pants. “I can’t-- fucking-- my belt is stuck--”

He curses, and Derek reaches out to steady him. “It’s okay, I can make you come and then we’ll go home and--”

“No, I want to be _fucked_ , I want your cock, and I want it now, Derek, I’ve been thinking about it all night with this damn thing inside me reminding me how much I want it every time I move or you touch that button and I can hardly think and so Derek if your cock isn’t in me in the next few seconds I swear--”

The solution seems easy enough in Derek’s haze of arousal; he simply pops a claw and slices a neat tear in the back of Stiles’ pants, and the pale flesh of Stiles’ ass peeks out, with the black flared base of the plug settled between his cheeks. He looks gorgeous, and the sound of the fabric tearing _really_ speaks to Derek’s instincts. Derek reaches out for the plug, and touching it causes Stiles to shudder and gasp, “Derek, I can’t believe you--”

And then Derek eases the plug out slowly, and that makes Stiles whimper at the loss, backing his hips up to Derek impatiently. “Please, need you, want you so bad--”

“I got you,” Derek says, lining himself up, but before he can thrust in Stiles is arching back and enveloping him in that tight wet heat. “Stiles,” Derek gasps, the sudden sensation too much for him to do anything other than just stand there as Stiles rocks his hips onto him.

Stiles glances over his shoulder to look at Derek, and he’s an absolute vision, his creamy skin in stark contrast to the dark cut of his suit, his hair a complete mess, and Derek reaches out to touch his cheek. Stiles mouths at his fingers a little, but he seems absolutely lost in concentration in getting pleasure out of Derek, so Derek just watches Stiles, watches him lean on the couch and back his ass up right onto Derek’s cock, both of them fully clothed, almost.

Derek wants to grab onto Stiles’ hips and tell him to slow down, go steady, but this isn’t the time or place for that, they’re fucking in someone else’s dressing room and this has to be quick and dirty. Derek focuses on standing still and letting Stiles take what he wants. It’s more than enough, Derek doesn’t even need to come, he just wants Stiles satisfied and happy right now.

There’s a TV mounted on the wall that is showing the current awards presentation, and Derek realizes with a jolt they’re announcing the nominees for _Best Knotting Scene._ The camera is flitting to each of the nominees, and then to the blank space where Derek and Stiles had been sitting with everyone at the studio.

“Fuck,” Derek says.

“Yeah, so good,” Stiles breathes, clenching around Derek’s cock, and it’s distracting enough where Derek doesn’t even notice his phone is buzzing.

_[9:33pm] r u guys still in the bathroom working on stiles hair_

Derek types back, _visual climax dressing room, sorry,_ and then drops the phone when Stiles eagerly presses back up against him.

The phone is on the ground when it buzzes with a new text from Scott.

_[9:36pm] ok cool the camera crew didn’t see u guys in the bathroom they just wanted a cute moment but i told them where u were_

“Fuck!” Derek this time growls, and Stiles just keeps going, and Derek doesn’t want to stop him in the middle, not when Stiles wants this so bad--

“And our last nominees for _Best Knotting Scene,_ from _True Alpha Studios,_ Stiles and Derek! This particular video barely made it into the nomination category for this year because it was released earlier in short video segments, but the feature length broke the record for number of downloads in-- oh my.”

The announcer, a petite woman with corkscrew curls, turns around and turns bright red, noticing Derek and Stiles for the first time. The cameras keep filming, and Derek just slips his hands into his pockets and puts on a nonchalant expression, hoping that they’ll just get embarrassed and leave.

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles keeps bouncing on his cock.

Derek doesn’t know where to look, definitely not at the cameras, who are still unabashedly filming. Derek can feel a hot blush start in his cheeks, and he’s not-- well, he’s filmed a lot of porn, but it’s always been when he’s been aware of what he was doing, and this was just a moment between him and Stiles that--

“Fuck yeah, you guys like that? Woo, yeah, bet none of the other nominees are gonna get KNOTTED LIVE for your viewing pleasure!” Stiles is gasping out. “Well, mostly for my pleasure, because my Derek’s knot is fucking - _-ah!”_

Derek loses it when Stiles says _my Derek_ , and he can feel the knot swell, and he groans, coming as he fills Stiles up. He’s shaky and dizzy with pleasure, and they both slump forward on the couch, panting for breath.

The announcer composes herself, and turns back around, smiling at the cameras. “And that was Stiles and Derek, from _True Alpha Studios._ Back to you, Mike and Viv.”

The camera guys relax a little, but they and the announcer don’t make a move to leave, but they do turn to watch the TV where the other announcers are opening an envelope.

“Babe, why aren’t they leaving so we can have our knotted cuddles,” Stiles whines.

“I don’t know,” Derek says, watching the announcer speak into her radio headset.

“And the winners are… Stiles and Derek!”

A shot of the audience applauding, and then the cameras are turned back on Stiles and Derek’s now wide-eyed reactions.

“What?”

“Don’t worry cuties, we’ll bring the award to you, I totally understand if you can’t go anywhere,” the announcer says, winking at them.

Derek groans, and buries his face into Stiles’ back.

Sure enough, a moment later, the other announcers are striding into the room with the statuettes and presenting them to them, and Stiles graciously accepts them, holding them aloft triumphantly.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna give your acceptance speech with my dick in your ass,” Derek murmurs softly to him.

Stiles reaches into his jacket pocket, face falling when he can’t find his notecards. “Ah, I really want to, but--”

Derek pulls out the notecards from his own pocket with the copy of Stiles’ speech just in case. Stiles takes the card, kissing Derek wetly on the mouth. “I love you,” he sighs.

“Love you too,” Derek says back.

 

* * *

 

The statues get forgotten on the living room coffee table when they get home. They’re exhausted, the afterparty and all the celebrations. Stiles is practically asleep already, plodding towards their bedroom and peeling himself out of the suit. He flops naked into their bed, gesturing towards Derek, eager to fall asleep with him.

“Hurry up and get naked,” Stiles says lazily, watching Derek unbutton his shirt.

“These are expensive suits, I’m just taking care of our clothes,” Derek says, shaking his head fondly as he watches Stiles flop into the bed and stretch, sighing happily. He hangs up his suit, and does the same for Stiles. Stiles grins when he sees Derek smile at the tear in Stiles’ pants. That can be fixed later. Or maybe never fixed. Maybe they can frame the pants and the tear.

When Derek approaches the bed, Stiles grabs his arm and pulls him onto the bed, laughing when Derek tumbles forward. They roll around for a little bit, giggling as the excitement from the night wears down, and then Stiles pulls him close, their bodies hopelessly entangled.

“You know, I used to hate cuddling,” Stiles remarks as Derek presses his face into Stiles’ neck. “Like, I would be terrible at pulling off any cute post-coital scenes because I couldn’t ever get into it on camera.”

“You are great at cuddles,” Derek says, fondly stroking Stiles’ thigh.

“Yeah, with you,” Stiles says. “Anyways, something funny that occurred to me today. Like Scott and I are always making bets against each other? Stupid things, serious things, whatever. So like, when our studio first signed up for the Orgasm Wars, Scott said this thing about meeting people and I could totally fall in love with someone. And I was like nah, not gonna happen, but if it does, I’ll cuddle someone on camera for you.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Derek asks playfully.

“Dunno, cause I’m definitely in love with you,” Stiles says, “And I’ve already cuddled you on camera, so I really don’t know.”

“I would say you won,” Derek says sleepily.

“The best treasure anyone could hope for,” Stiles quotes, taking Derek’s hand to kiss him on the knuckles like his character did in the movie. Something is shining on Derek’s finger, something Stiles hasn’t noticed earlier, and he pulls Derek’s hands closer to see what it is.

It’s the prop ring they used, the one they had made with the same triskelion design Derek has tattooed. That had been Stiles’ idea, actually, that this piece of the treasure was something personal, a part of Derek’s character’s family history, so it would mean a lot more when it was finally returned. “You kept this,” Stiles says in wonder. “Have you been wearing it all night?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Derek says, a little embarrassed. “I pocketed it after our last day of filming. I put it on sometimes if I want to feel more confident, and I just have a lot of good memories of making that movie with you. I know it’s silly, but I just… I like it because, well, I know we were acting, but, I just like the idea. You know.”

“Of us getting pirate-married and sailing off into the sunset together,” Stiles says, lifting an eyebrow.

Derek laughs. “Well, when you put it that way it sounds silly. But yeah, I still like the idea.”

Stiles leans over Derek and opens the nightstand behind him, yanking it open and feeling for the little box he’d hidden inside there. This is sooner than he had planned, but it feels right. He closes his fingers around the velvet box and pulls it out, falling back onto the bed with Derek, whose mouth falls open.

“How about real married, then?” Stiles asks, flipping the box open and offering it to Derek. Inside is another ring, almost identical to the one currently on Derek’s finger, except this one isn’t a prop, but one that Stiles had specially commissioned from a jeweler in shining platinum.

“Stiles, I--” Derek opens his mouth, and then closes it again. “I--”

Stiles is getting more and more nervous because this isn’t a yes… it’s not a no, either, but Derek is just staring at him, and are those... _tears_ brimming in his eyes?

Stiles scoots forward so he can wipe the tears from Derek’s face. “Babe, it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you think this is too fast--”

“Stiles, just give me a second, okay, I’m trying to say yes, and you’re--”

“You’re saying yes?”

[nsfw gif ahead, click to skip]

 

 

 

 

 

 

Derek nods, and Stiles shouts out in joy, pulling him in for a long, relieved hug. Stiles’ heart keeps pounding in excitement as he replaces the prop ring for a real one, and then he flops onto the pillow, shouting into it. Derek kisses the back of his neck, his cheek, and then all over his jaw, until Stiles turns around to face him. Derek’s eyes are still wet with emotion, but he looks so happy, and Stiles kisses his smile, a current of joy rushing through his body. He should probably say something, but he can’t figure out what to say, what would be appropriate and not a pun or something that would ruin the moment, and Derek’s taking his hand, lacing their fingers together, and Stiles figures he doesn’t have to say anything right now at all, they can just fall asleep together like this, and for every night to come.

  
**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been an amazing journey, writing this piece. I've had a lot of fun, and I appreciate so much everyone who's commented and kudo'd and subscribed along the way, everyone who's sent me a tumblr message appreciating this fic. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoyed the experience.
> 
> One last extra: [a magazine cover](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/109268345010/alls-fair-in-orgasms-and-war-by-bleep0bleep-e) from the near future, featuring Stiles and Derek.
> 
> EDIT: FANART from the [pirate movie scene](https://twitter.com/MIAnewarcher/status/560203670437253121)!

**Author's Note:**

> Lastly: I've had a few people ask me about where they can find more of the two guys fucking in suits. The gif from the last chapter features the actors Woody Fox and Justin Harris, from a video called "Pure Suit" produced by Men At Play. There's a few photos, gifs and a two minute teaser of the video [here.](http://daily.squirt.org/?p=51629) [nsfw link]
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here.](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com)
> 
> ~  
>  _This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being shared with or read aloud by the press, or anyone working on said production of_ Teen Wolf, _including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom._


End file.
